


Stilinski

by FreckleSue



Category: Carrie - Stephen King, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Hale Fire, Alternate Universe - No Werewolves, Carrie-AU, First Time, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Minor Character Death, Underage Kissing, sterek
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-20
Updated: 2015-03-26
Packaged: 2017-12-29 22:05:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 31
Words: 61,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1010661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreckleSue/pseuds/FreckleSue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[Film] CarrieAU: </p><p>Stiles Stilinski is the freak of Beacon High. With an alcoholic father at home and mocking at school, he finds himself alone and wishes for once to be normal. After an accident that outs him, Jackson Whittemore, the most popular guy in school takes it upon himself to make Stiles junior year a living hell. Scott McCall, feeling guilty for playing along with Jackson takes it upon himself to Help Stiles by getting the apple of his shy affections, Derek Hale, the bad boy Senior. </p><p>But all while these events take place, Stiles starts noticing strange things happening around him whenever he becomes upset. Light bulbs busting, mirrors cracking, once even a book flew off a table after a swipe of his hand. What does this mean??</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

 

John Stilinski sat in silence. The noises around him rolled on. The people, their faces, kept moving all awhile he stayed still. His fingers squeezed each other, nails digging into his palms, begging his body to wake up, desperately wanting this to be over. His eyes, bloodshot and wide, stared at the tile floor. He could feel them watering, needing to blink, but he refused to give himself any relief. He would not cry because this was a dream. This was a bad dream, and all he had to do was wait for it to be over. It would fade, and he would wake up. He’ll turn over and see her laying besides him so sweetly, so warm…

And alive.

But this dream was taking longer than normal. John’s breath began to shorten, his lungs squeezing too tight. _“Wake up.”_ he thought, “ _Wake up. Wake up. Wake up. WAKE UP.”_ His voice screamed inside his mind as his body began to vibrate, unable to stay still any longer. "Wake up." he hissed, his teeth clenching tight behind his hands. "Wake up. Wake up. Wake up."

“Mr. Stilinski?”

John jerked back in his seat, his head shooting up to met the eyes of an doctor. “ _Wake up,”_ John kept thinking, even as the doctor kneeled down to clasp his hands around John’s, preparing him for this nightmare reality.

“We tried everything, but we couldn’t stop the bleeding. I’m so sorry.”

John couldn’t breathe as the doctor stood up to exit through the same double doors that took her only a few hours earlier. Closing his eyes, he hissed to himself again, the heel of his palms rubbing into his eye sockets. “Wake up, wake up.” His body removed itself from the chair, his legs carrying him in a pace along the small hall way. “No, no, no, no.” His body was going into shock, this wasn’t a dream. “No. NO. NO!” Tears escaped his tightly closed eyes as his breath began to wheeze. He let out a yell, his fist crashing into the white wall that surrounded him. He sobbed then, shoulders shaking, nails raking into the solid surface.

“John!”

The shout of his name made him pause, but his tears kept falling. With a will of its own, his body turned to the voice, putting him face to face with Melissa McCall. Her eyes were red and her cheeks puffy, proof she was crying only moments before, but she still managed to show him pity in her dark eyes. “Stop it, John,” she sniffled, but how could he? She was gone. She was alive just a few minutes ago. He held her hand, stroked her sweat covered brow, and whispered encouragement into her ear as she screamed. Her hand had squeezed his so tight that her nails had cut him, but he just held on tighter. He sniffled and shook the memory away, turning his back to the cold wall, “No, she’s can’t. She can’t.”

“John!”

He looked back to her with pleading eyes, begging her with his frown to tell him she was alright, and the doctors were wrong. A miracle, a god damned miracle had happened and the light that was his love was restored! Yet she stood there sad at him, her tears held at bay and from inside where they both stared in silence, a new noise grew louder.

A soft baby cry.

John looked down and finally noticed the bundle Melissa held so tenderly. The blue soft blanket wrapped tightly around a bundle of limbs and sobs. She stepped closer then, lifting the baby higher to her chest, her sad smile looking down upon it with sympathy. “He needs you now,” she whispered.

Handing him over, John took the child quietly, letting his eyes take in every detail. The child that he watched her coo over, her warm hands stroking her swollen belly and giggling with delight at every kick it gave. Here, he looked upon the child his wife gave her life for.

His exhaustion and sadness caught up, forcing his leaden body back in the chair. He clutched the baby at his lap, wishing he could celebrate this life and kiss the boy’s face. But he couldn’t. All he could do was look down at his small red face, wet with tears. Slumping back, John tilted his head back and stared at the ceiling, a broken smile touching his face when Melissa took the child out from his now limp grip.

_He needs you now._

“Wake up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thank you to my friend Jackie for being my beta!


	2. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles stood away from the others silently. His eyes watching, peeking out over the fabric of his sweater he clung to so tightly. Everyone looked to be having fun, water splashing freely, laughter ringing out with squeals from girls as boys picked them up and tossed them into the pool.
> 
> He hated P.E.

**-Seventeen years later-**

 

Stiles stood away from the others silently. His eyes watching, peeking out over the fabric of his sweater he clung to so tightly. Everyone looked to be having fun, water splashing freely, laughter ringing out with squeals from girls as boys picked them up and tossed them into the pool.

He hated P.E.

Pressing his back against the marble wall, he wanted to sink into it and disappear. Nothing but pale skin and thin limbs was all he had with stupid moles covering him that his father would drunkenly remind him, his mother had those.

Stiles took those from her too.

Closing his eyes, fingers curling into his sleeve, he began to walk back towards the locker room, maybe if he got there before the coach came out, he wouldn’t have to get into the water and be forced to make an idiot out of himself. It wasn’t like Coach Finstock would notice him. No one noticed him…

Turning the corner, he smacked right into a brick wall. Well actually it wasn’t a brick wall, more of a body that ‘felt’ like a brick wall. Jerking back, his hands quick to cover his sore nose, he looked up with fright at the person he hit, muttering a quick, ‘I-I’m sorry’. His face turned red when he noticed who it was, he should have known this would happen because all the shitty things ALWAYS happened to him. Standing before him was the Greek god Derek Hale, well.. Stiles didn’t think he was Greek but he looked like it, with his tan skin and thick black hair, standing an inch or two higher then himself, showing off not one ounce of body fat everywhere on his frame. Derek Hale, the schools bad boy senior, Stiles was always confused by that title since Derek never really ‘did’ anything bad. Sure he skipped a few classes and got into a few fights but a lot of times, Derek was pushed into them! If anything, he was just really quiet and liked to be alone. He met those hazel eyes that looked down at him, thick eye brows lifting up in question. Stiles felt his body shake, his heart racing, this always happened when Derek looked at him, shit it happened when he wasn’t in the room.

Stiles finally came to find out he cared deeply for Derek, that had to be it. It would explain why his face went hot and his heart felt like it was going to beat out of his chest. Stiles often day dreamed that he would walk down the hallways and Derek would look up at him and give him that small smile he once saw.

He remembered that day; it was six months, four days and three hours ago when his feelings began to grow. Stiles was looking out the window of his science class, letting his mind wonder as his teacher rambled and as he did, his eyes noticed something off in the distance. Across the field, Derek was leaning up against a tree, hiding in the shade. He looked so…dangerous. Dressed in a black leather jacket, he stood with crossed arms, dark blue jeans hugging his hips and thighs, leaving nothing to the imagination of how powerful those muscles could be. That fact wasn’t unknown, Derek was always placed within the top three of all sports highlights. Basketball, base ball and lacrosse. Unlike the other guys, who played for careers, for popularity, Derek did these sports for fun or just for the sake of doing them. Stiles leaned his chin on his hands and watched him, day dreaming that Derek was waiting for him to get out of school and he would take Stiles out. They would go eat at the new dine in just a few blocks down and talk about books or something. Derek could take him to the park and teach him how to handle himself better, how to stand on his feet and actually try out for a sport and be great at it.

Or maybe they could hang out in his room and he could show Dereks the comics he managed to buy. They were old and badly handled by their past owners but Stiles tried to take care of them, maybe Derek was a fan and would sit beside him and talk about how Batman was so much better then superman. Stiles day dreamed  and they all came to a stop when he watched Derek push himself off the tree and give a smile. Not those forced ‘look-I’m-smiling-even-thou-I-Don’t-Want-to’, no this was a real smile, a warm smile and Stiles looked to see who was blessed enough to have his attention. Stiles felt his own face light up with its own smile when he watched Derek’s younger sister Cora go rushing out towards him, she was a freshmen, just started her high school social life and she ran at Derek. Stiles wanted to know about her, wanted to be there and listen to what Cora was saying that made Derek shake his head and wrap his arm around her head, giving her a squeeze while she fought him off. He was the perfect big brother; Stiles knew it even if no one else saw it.

But that interaction stirred something within Stiles chest and now, every time Derek looked at him. Stiles couldn’t help but become lost. Just like he was now standing like a moron in front of him. Quickly he looked away from those eyes, letting his eyes land on Derek’s chest. Crap, wrong move. He watched him from afar so he knew what was to be expected but to see it up-close, Stiles felt his blood boil. His chest was perfection, sculpted from marble so carefully, Stiles didn’t even mind the chest hair that covered, it only made Derek look wild, untamed and Stiles felt the need to run his fingers threw it, to see if they were as soft as he pictured it.

“What’s the hold up?”

Stiles jumped back again when a voice called out from behind, a voice he knew all too well. Beside Derek, Jackson Whittemore appeared, his glaring eye already on him. Stiles hated him. Jackson took it upon himself to make Stiles life a nightmare for no reason. Sure there was that one time Stiles messed up during P.E and pelted Jackson with a volley ball, everyone had laughed it off but Jackson didn’t. No, he glared at Stiles and uttered, ‘Eat shit.’ That caused uproar of laughter, this time at him. After that, Stiles had been pushed into lockers, pelted with spit balls, his food knocked from his hands and given hurtful names that kept him up at night sobbing in anger.

“Oh, it’s you.” Jackson sneered, as ugly and mean Jackson was, Stiles envied how pretty he became after middle school. Stiles hated the ego that grew with it as well. “What the hell are you doing dickward?” Stiles pressed his lips, keeping his words back. He wanted so bad to snap back, to fight Jackson back at his words but he knew if he did. They would call his father… Hunching his shoulders up, he whispered, “I’m just leaving.” He tried to pass but Jackson only put his arm out, blocking his escape. “Woah there. Class is just starting and guess what?” He began to approach Stiles, causing him to walk backwards. “W-What.”

Jackson grinned, behind him his group of friends started to gatherer laughing. “We are gonna play a game and we decide to let you in.” Stiles looked at Jacksons group, a sea of faces smiling at him happily, some snickering. Stiles was scared so he tried to rush by, “I don’t want too.” But his arms were grabbed and his body was spun around, facing the pool. “Hey there, I’m trying to be nice.” Jackson mocked hurt, beside him Scott McCall, someone Stiles looked to for help only grinned his dopey smile, thick curls framing his face in pure innocence. “We’re going to play an easy game, even an idiot like you can’t mess it up.” Stiles tried again but extra hands grabbed his arms and jacket, pushing him closer to the edge of the pool. Stiles shock his head, his voice whispering quickly, “I-I don’t want to play.”

“It’s very easy; all you have to do is say ‘polo’ and I say marco. Ready?” Stiles looked at the water and tried again, he didn’t want to go in, last time they tried to dunk him and keep him under, he thought he was going to drown until the Coach caught them. He didn’t want a repeat. “Please stop it.” He hiccupped but Jackson laughed, “Just say polo, that’s all you have to do, ready?”

Stiles kicked his feet against the edge, classmates were noticing the drama and they were watching. Some were cheering for Jackson to push him in; some were just shaking their head at the display. Why wouldn’t anyone stop him? Why wouldn’t anyone help him?!

“Marco?”

Stiles closed his eyes tightly. “…Polo.”

Planting his feet against the ground, Stiles shoved back when Jackson pushed forward, placing them in a tug of war for dry land. Jackson yanked Stiles sweater, his voice calling out, “Marco!” Stiles tugged at his arms and by some miracle his right arm was let go and went flying up.

Smacking right into Jackson’s jaw. Some people gasped when Jackson yelled out, covering his mouth quickly. Stiles turned around, his hands flying up towards Jacksons face. “I’m sorry!” He yelled, he didn’t want a phone call, he dad couldn’t know this. Jackson hissed and glared at Stiles, all the humor gone from his face. Like a snap, his fist went flying and stuck his stomach before another fist clipped his jaw, knocking Stiles back and into the water.

Cold water was everywhere. Its cool embrace couldn’t sooth the burning pain he suffered. His mouth opened to cough letting water fill his lungs. His arms kicked out and his arms struggled but his stomach hurt so much his body kept trying to curl back up. He needed air, he couldn’t breathe! Opening his eyes, his vision was blurred and spinning, he didn’t know where to go, which side was up, what was down. He opened his mouth again to call out for help but water kept filling. He was going to die.

He was going to die!

He didn’t know what happened, how it happened. He was in the water struggling, trying to swim then suddenly he was coughing out water in fits. Rolling to his side, he hacked out the water, feeling the burn in his throat, his hands touching the concrete floor, telling him he was safe, he was out of the pool. Sniffling, he looked over his shoulders, his legs curling up when he noticed a group of people surrounded him.

“Good job loser, you almost drowned yourself.”

He didn’t know who said it, all his attention was place on the person closest to him.

Derek Hale was kneeling next to him, his body soaked, beads of water dripping from his hair. Looking down at Stiles with stubborn expression, his hands grip tight to his arms but not harming him. “You okay?”

The first words Derek even spoke to him. Stiles blinking back the water, letting out another coughing fit as Derek began to lean away. Did… Did Derek save him? Derek helped him to sit up, removing his touch and Stiles found himself whimpering at the lost, he wanted Derek to touch him again, to tell him he was okay and get him out. His body jerked in delight when that hand returned, this time touching his back, rubbing small circles to sooth him. This… This was okay, he wanted Derek to keep touching him, to pull him close and shield him from the rest of the people around. Derek saved him, oh my god Derek saved him!

 He wanted to thank him, he ‘needed’ to thank him.

“What the… dude! Did he just get a woodie?!”

Suddenly voices boomed and Stiles found himself jerking back to attention. Looking up, Jackson was pointing laughing, the others soon joining in.

“Oh dude gross!”

“Did drowning get you off? You sick fuck!”

“Oh my god, Jackson I think he likes Derek!”

“Holy shit, Freak boy likes Derek?!”

“Awww, he couldn’t keep it in his pants. I bet he’s a virgin.”

“Are you a virgin ya big fag?”

“Hahahahaha! Stiles how about you ask Derek here to make a real woman out of you!”

“I bet he takes it like a bitch!”

“Take it Stiles!”

“Take it!”

“Take it!”

“Take it!”

They chanted, feet’s pushing him and Stiles was lost in his stumbled to cover himself. His thick soaked sweater weighted him down but he pushed it to cover his groin, his face burning red. Oh god, why did that happened?! He looked up and Derek was already removing himself from Stiles side, looking away from him and that alone made Stile cry. Tears began to fall as he yelled for them to leave him alone, to go away but they laughed harder. They pointed and pushed him, yanked his jacket to show off his dick to everyone, their voices echoing as they sang out, “Take it! Take it like the little bitch you are!”

Stiles covered his face with his hands and cried, yelling to drown out the voices and it worked, he didn’t even hear another booming voice catch everyone’s attention.

“WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?!”

His chest was hurting, he couldn’t breathe. Oh god, he was having a panic attack wasn’t he? He kept yelling, kept clawing at his sweater and even at the hands that touched him before one stuck him across the face. His body went still as the flare of pain soaked his cheek. Slowly he looked forward, finally noticing Coach Finstoack was kneeling before him confused, his eyes wide. “What the hell man?” Turning around, he looked at the group, his arms wide. “What is this about?! Jackson, what happened here?!”

Jackson looked away, rubbing his red nose lightly, “Stiles fell in the pool. Idiot almost drowned.” Coach Finstock raised a brow, pushing himself to stand, “And you expect me to believe that’s it?” Jackson only scuffed, “I didn’t do anything, and the guy popped a woodie!” Others agreed and Coach Finstock looked back over his shoulder down at Stiles, watching him sniffle and tug his sweater down over his swim shorts. “Really Bilinski? What are you, fourteen?”

Stiles only hiccupped, his eyes staring to the floor. Why did this always happen to him, why couldn’t he be normal like everyone else? Then no one would pick on him, fuck then maybe he could have friends, people would who stick up for him instead of watching from the side lines. Why did everyone hate him so much?

Coach Finstock just let out a deep sigh before pointing down the hallway, “Bilinski, hit the showers. The rest of you in the pool. NOW!”


	3. Chapter 2

This… Didn’t feel right.

Scott McCall rubbed the back of his neck nervously, his head ducked down to his passing friends. Stiles had limped away, shoulders hunched and sniffling down the hall. Normally, this was funny. Scott would smile at him in apology and just carry on. This was normal, everyone picked on Stiles.

Everyone.

Scott walked towards the pool side, leaning down to sit, slipping his legs into the water. It was second nature to join in the crowed when Stiles was getting picked on. Shouting out what everyone else was saying, just harmless fun!

Harmless….

Closing his eyes a little, Scott frowned. This time, this was too much. Stiles really could have drown and really? Everyone popped a boner at the wrong times… Looking at it now, it was just bad taste. Lost in thought, Another body slipped by his own, letting him look up to notice pale skin and blond curls. Isaac.

“Hey.” Scott greeted but Isaac only looked ahead, his eyes watching the other classmates begin their warm ups. “It got out of hand.” Isaac whispered and Scott ducked his head again, kicking his feet idly. “I didn’t mean to.”

“You pushed him in.”

“Everyone was doing it!” Scott hissed.

“I wasn’t.”

Scott glared at him but Isaac kept looking forward, his expression sad and cold. “Fine, I made a mistake.” Isaac finally looked at him, giving a raised brow.  “So helping Jackson wrap him up in toilet paper and shaving cream with a sign saying, ‘Tiger’s eat shit’ then dumping him at our competing school football field wasn’t?”

Scott flinched at that memory. It was the beginning of their junior year and Jackson thought it would be a funny idea to show the other school they didn’t want to mess with Beacon High… Scott wasn’t there when they grabbed Stiles but he joined in with markers to write those words. “…. Fine, I made a lot of mistakes.” Isaac gave a small nod. They sat there a little while longer in silence, listening to each other’s breathing before Scott blurted out, “I’m going to have to apologize don’t I?”

“You never did before.”

Isaac didn’t stay after that statement but choose to get up and leave. Scott watched his retreating back, fingers curled tightly into the edges where he sat. Leave it to Isaac to make you feel a whole new world of guilt and shame. Thou he would know, Isaac was a little like Stiles, shy, quiet but unlike the other, he fought back when he was pushed. Scott knew why, the scars were still visible from his friends back. Scott had helped him, got his mom and the courts to see the abuse the teenager was going through from his own father and for the past few months Scott spent most of his time befriending Isaac. Isaac had changed a lot since then, yet he choose to always stay on the side line, but he never stop to approach Scott and remind him how ironic it was that Scott spent his time helping Isaac with his life, yet turned a blind eye to Stiles. Scott… had no answer, he use to say it was because he knew Isaac, grew up with him while Stiles… Well, Scott didn’t know him like that.

 Water splashed his face shocking Scott from his thoughts, turning his attention back to the pool where Jackson was standing, Danny close to his side. “McCall! Get in the pool!”

“I don’t reall-“

“Bitch I said get in the pool!” Scott let out a yelp when hands grabbed his ankles and yanked him in, muffle sounds of laughter ringing out around him. Resurfacing, Jackson waved him over to the volleyball net where his class was setting up, “Get a move on.”

Wiping at his face, Scott pushed his hair back, getting his bangs out from his eyes. He’ll apologize this time. “Hold up!” He called out, swimming his way over to Jackson’s side. He’ll do it right after class.

 

\----------------------------------------

 

Deep breaths, in and out. Stiles hugged his backpack tightly, his body still shaking from the events. Why did this always happen to him. Rubbing the sleeve of his shirt on his face, he wiped away the last of his tears. He was seventeen, he shouldn’t be crying. That’s what his dad always said, stop crying, crying won’t do anything.

Looking up, he stared into a mirror, seeing his blood shot eyes. “…Way to go Stiles.” He whispered. It was over, sure maybe there was no chance at all to talk to Derek or even be friends with him and he accepted that. He was okay with watching him from afar but now, if their eyes met instead of a raised brow or even a look over, since he was never really noticed before. Derek would look at him and he would know who Stiles was.

Stiles was the freak who got a boner in front of him.

The freak had a crush on him.

Freak.

His face twisted in pain, new tears forming. He didn’t want Derek to look at him like that, of everyone at school; of everyone he knew he didn’t want that. He wanted Derek to see him, the real him. Stiles was not a freak. He wanted to be normal; he was going to be normal. Narrowing his eyes against the mirror, his lips curling into a sneer, he yelled.

“I’M NOT A FREAK!!!!”

Shatter glass made his feet stumble back, his backpack falling to the ground. Stiles stood there in shock, his eyes wide in belief.  Just seconds ago he was looking into the mirror, willing himself to change, letting his rage and hurt finally take over and let his voice finally call out what he wanted to say for so long.

And the mirror shattered.

Slow steps, he moved closer, looking at the broken pieces in the sink. How? How did that happen? Reaching out, his fingers reached towards the glass, hovering shakily above. It broke when he yelled… This was a total accident… Biting his lower lip, his fingers flexed and he pushed, just testing… Lifting his hand away, his face broke into a surprised laugh when some of the small pieces shook and began to rise up. Was he…doing this?

“Bilinski!”

Stiles jumped back, snatching his hand away causing the pieces to fall to the floor. Turning around, he watched Coach Finstock appear in the doorway of the bathrooms, clip board in hand. “Yo, come on. We’ve been called to the Principles offi- Woah….What happened here?”

“Uh…. It…broke..”

“I can see that.” Stiles quickly picked up his backpack and rushed out, leaving Finstock to stare at the mess. “Yeah.. I’m not cleaning that. Greenberg!!! Get your ass in here and be useful for once!”


	4. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles kept his eyes on the carpet floor, his fingers gripping the straps of his backpack. It wasn’t new being sent to the principal’s office, it was starting to become a bi weekly event and each time. The principle would look at him once, asked what happened and send him off with a reassuring, ‘It’ll be dealt with.’
> 
> It never was.

“So Steven.”

“Its Stiles.”

“Oh, sorry. Can you tell me who was involved?”

Stiles kept his eyes on the carpet floor, his fingers gripping the straps of his backpack. It wasn’t new being sent to the principal’s office, it was starting to become a bi weekly event and each time. The principle would look at him once, asked what happened and send him off with a reassuring, ‘It’ll be dealt with.’

It never was.

It started to become pointless. He use to come here and believe it would stop. All the pushes, all the bruises would end. He walked in time and time again, telling principle Bryce and finally be able to breath, to walk into school without looking over his shoulder. Stiles thought they would protect him. Teachers always told their students if something was wrong, they would handle it. They wanted everyone safe; they would make sure of it. Stiles was locked in his locker for five hours once, he was only found by the janitor due to his yelling and when he told Principle Bryce, he was asked the same thing he was now.

Who was **involved**.

Stiles muttered Jacksons name and a few others and the older man, with his thin hair and round face just nodded and told Stiles he would look into the matter and deal with it himself. It took two days and Stiles over heard Jackson telling his teammates that he was called into the principal’s office and that he needed to ‘stop goofing around’ and went on his merry way. They didn’t protect Stiles. They didn’t want to.

So while he sat there, not meeting their eyes, he thought to himself ‘what is the point anymore?’

“I believe it was Mr. Whittemore and his friends.”

Finstock and Principle Bryce snapped their heads towards the door, spotting a new figure in the room. Standing between the door way, Marin Morrell rose a thin brow to them both. Ms. Morrell was the schools French Teacher and guidance counselor. She had this energy and appearance to her that told everyone she was pretty on the eyes but she would snap your neck in two with a few spoken words and a simple glare.

“Where did she come from?” Finstock pointed, moving over when Ms. Morrell stepped into the room. “Ms. Morrell.” Principle Bryce began, “We are in the middle of something.”

“I see.” She spoke smoothly, her eyes never taking themselves off Stiles. He glanced up at her quickly, frowning at her presences but he just shut himself back down. There was no point. “It looks like Mr. Stilinski has been through a lot. I’ve been meaning to set a appointment and when I went to find him during his class, I came across the incident. It seemed Mr. Whittemore and his friends were causing a scene again.”

“Bilinski, why didn’t you say anything?” Finstock demanded.

“It’s Stilinski.” Ms. Morrell corrected. “And I believe he couldn’t because he almost drowned.”

Stiles noticed the Principle had sat up at that point, his hands clasping tightly on the desk. “Drowned?”

“Correct. Even after he was taken out of the pool, Mr. Stilinshi had a… personal problem that the boys made fun of.”

“The kid popped a woodie.” Finstock offered, causing Ms. Morrell to glare at him. “What? It’s a normal body function thing! It happens to teenagers all the time, sometimes adults. Not me thou, no.”

“I see.” Principle Bryce muttered, “This is a serious matter. Steven,”

“It’s Stiles!” The teen snapped.

Everyone looked to him shocked, finding him hunched over a little more into his bag. Stiles was glaring at the desk, his lips pressed. How hard was it really? It was a simple name! As the teachers around him began to look upon one another, Stiles looked off to the door, noticing something strange just out of sight. Beside the door, the Principles personal water cooler stood and normally, that’s not a big deal. What was was the fact bubbles were starting to rise to the top, big puffs of air like someone was yelling out under it.

“Stiles.”

His attention snapped back to the front, his ears picking up the sounds of bubbling water coming to a standstill. “Is what Ms. Morrell said true? Was it Mr. Whittemore and his friends?” Scuffing the floor, Stiles gave a small nod. “Alright then. Coach Finstock, I’m entrusting you to have their punishment fit the crime.”

“You got it. A few days of detention.”

“No.” Ms. Morrell interpreted causing Finstock to gasp at her. “What do you mean No? I’m their teacher.”

“From what I’ve seen, Detention will not due. They are juniors Principle Bryce, they have one more year before they go out into the real world where matters like these will not be taken lightly.”

“They’re just boys.”

“No, they are young men and they need to know what they did is not acceptable.”

Stiles stared at her in shocked. No one stood up for him, no one take it upon themselves to reach out and pull him into their shadow and protect him from others. “In that case, Ms. Morrell, I’ll place you in charge of their punishment. Remember our guidelines.”

“Of course.”

Coach Finstock groaned behind them, his arms crossing over his chest in irritation. With a nod, Principle Bryce looked back to Stiles, his hands closing the folder on his desk, “Stiles, you are excused for the rest of the day. We have already called your father and he should b-“

“You what?”

Stiles stiffen in his chair. “N-No, you don’t need to call him.”

“I’m sorry Stiles but we had too. I know he is a busy man, being the Sheriff but guidelines state we have to let him know. He will be here soon so-“

“No!” Shaking his head, Stiles began to panic. His dad, no why did they call him?! “No! You didn’t need to call him, he didn’t need to know!” His chest felt tight, like someone was pressing their foot against it and was pressing down, trying to squeeze the air from him. He didn’t want to see his dad; he didn’t want to go home. They didn’t understand, they would never understand. Ms. Morrell touched his shoulder and he only pulled away yelling out, why didn’t they have to do this?! They don’t understand what will happen, he didn’t want to go back, and he didn’t want to go home! He didn’t want to ask for forgiveness, he didn’t! “I can’t!”

Around him the teachers shouted and cursed at the sounds of shattering glass. All heads snapped to the side to see the water cooler was sudden broken, water pouring to the ground. Ms. Morrell jumped back from the falling pieces, Coach Finstock yelling out drawing more attention his way giving Stiles enough time to rush out of the room, escaping them. He needed to get out, he needed to hide.

In his blind terror, he turned a sharp right but his jacket was gripped tightly by the neckline. He came to a rough stop, his feet slipping across the floor. He looked back and his body went limp, his legs filling with lead, sticking him to the floor. His throat began to dry out, he knew this feeling. It was something he had to remind himself to get out of, the feeling of his throat tightening, like he was going to throw up, his eyes burning at the tears already forming. Another rough yank, His father held tight, walking him down the hall way towards the entrance doors. Stiles tripped a few times, his lips trembling as he tried to utter the words in his mind. “I-I’m sor-“

“Don’t talk.” John muttered and the mere tone made Stiles flinch. “Get in the car. We’re going home.”  


	5. chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “No, you don’t owe ‘me’ an apology.”
> 
> “Dad! Dad no please don’t!”
> 
> “You are going to ask ‘her’ for forgiveness.” 
> 
> Stiles started to kick his feet then, his hands gripping his fathers wrist when he was yanked forward. He knew what was coming and panic took over. “Dad don’t! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!!!”

Leaning against Jackson Porsche, Scott munched his sandwich half listening to the talk around him. What had his attention were the two people who were walking out from the school. Taking another bite, he frowned in worry at the sight. Stiles was hunched over, his arms hugging his backpack and his face, it looked terrified. He knew that look, he saw it on Isaac face a lot but not this case, this was REALLY a big deal. It draws down to who Stiles dad was, Sheriff Stilinski, one of the most recognized people in town. People loved him, he was respected and some of the other deputies worshipped him.

No, maybe Scott was just over thinking this.

Stiles looked the way he did, like he was going to bolt and disappear to god know where because of the mocking he was given. That had to be it. His doubt was still there thou, growing ever steady when the pair got to Sheriff Stilinkis police car and the older man gave a short shove to his son, letting the teen stumble into the passenger door.

Scott had to be over thinking this…..right?

“Can you believe it? He just popped one, right there in front of everyone!”

Taking his eyes from the departing police car, Scott looked back to the others. Jackson was leaning on the passenger door, laughing out the events to those who missed it. Mostly he was bragging to his girlfriend. Kate Argent, Scott didn’t understand why the lady was there, she didn’t go to our school. She wasn’t even ‘in’ high school! She was three years older than them, already a year into her college and yet she’s dating one of the juniors. Jackson. Scott always wondered when the school was going to do something about it, report her for ‘child abuse’ since Jackson was still seventeen but the school just turned a blind eye. Jackson was the star of lacrosse, he would bring home the trophy and championship to the school so everything he does, right or wrong they wiped it clean.

Kate Argent was a whole other story. The women gave Scott the creeps. Don’t get him wrong, she was hot. Long dirty long hair, tan flawless skin, long legs she liked to show off in her short skirts or tight skinny jeans. She looked good and she knew it too, showed it off, and flaunted it happily. Her lips always had a coy smile, tossing around promised filled words to anyone who would listen. Jackson had said she was great in the sack and that’s why he chooses to keep her around.

Scott likes to think there’s been something else.

“That poor boy.” Kate purred, her fingers playing down along Jackson’s arm. “Did he see a girl’s bare thigh? Or a patch of her back, virgins are very ‘sensitive’ in that matter.”

“Oh no, it wasn’t a girl that made him ‘stand’ at attention.” Allan laughed out, taking a swing of his power drink. “It was Derek Hale. The guy jumped in and got him out of the pool when Jackson socked him in the gut.”

“The dick hit me first, it was self defense.”

“You were trying to throw him in the pool.” Danny offered lightly, unwrapping his fruit bar boredly.

“Whatever.” Jackson scoff but Scott noticed the look that flashed across Kates face, her eyes widening a little. “Derek Hale?” She asked and Jackson went off again, “Yeah. He jumped in and pulled the loser out. Ha ha oh crap, the look of that kids face, it was pathetic! Who would have thought Stiles had the hots for Derek. Always the quiet ones.”

Everyone began to laugh again and Scott noticed something Sharp on Kates face. Her carefree expression changed so suddenly, she looked almost scary. Her brows were drawn in, her eyes narrowed out towards the school field. She looked upset and Scott, being curious, looked out as well to see what caught her eye. He didn’t notice anything different but off in the distance, he noticed someone. Derek Hale was making his way across the field, sunglasses perched on his face. Scott looked back and forth between him and Kate, his brain trying to make sense of it.

What is that about?

 

\-------------------------

 

They drove in silence.

Stiles gave a quick glance to the side, seeing his father’s expressionless face looking forward. He had tried to explain to him, it wasn’t his fault. He didn’t want the school to call him but his father just gave him one look and Stiles words dried up on his tongue. He felt ashamed. He didn’t mean for this, he knew how hard his dad worked, how many hours he had to put down, endless nights of paper work and catching bad men out in this town. His father didn’t have ‘time’ to deal with Stiles over reactions; he didn’t have time to pick him up time after time from school whenever something happens that Stiles couldn’t solve himself.

Useless, how could the Sheriff of this town be given a son who couldn’t even fight back? What disgust his father must hold to know whenever he looks at him, all he see’s is weakness. Stiles was a curse, he understood it now. He tried so hard when he was young, studied to pass his classes, worked hard to keep the house clean and cook, he strive to get attention from his father. All he wanted was just for him to look upon Stiles and tell him he was proud, tell him he loved him and give him the hug Stiles craved. He wished and worked so hard but each time, his father would just ignore it. Good grades were acknowledge with a simple glance. John would walk into a clean house and point out things that were missed leaving Stiles feeling empty.

As he grew, Stiles began to believe everything his father told him, everything his father gave him. He was nothing but a disappointment. He was nothing like the son John wanted, what John deserved.

He was not worth the life his mother gave.

Parking the car, Stiles finally noticed they were in the drive way of their own house. He looked to his father again and John simply took out the keys from the ignition, pushed himself out of the car and made his way inside.

A clear sign for Stiles to follow.

Sometimes, he wondered what would happen if he didn’t. What if he just got out of the car and started to walk down the driveway. Kept walking until he left town, walked til his legs hurt and his feet protested. What if he just went away and found another town, another place to live. What would happen?

Sometimes he felt himself start a couple of steps, his body pushing itself to make that walk, anything would be better than this but he never made it past the sidewalk and he knew why. His heart, he didn’t want to accept that his dad wouldn’t come for him. He didn’t want to believe that John wouldn’t go out and report him missing, race out to track him down when he finally did, wrap him up in his arms and sob into his shoulder, finally telling him how much it scared him to see Stiles gone, how much he loved him and promised he would change.

Stiles didn’t want to believe John would simply accept him disappearing…

Pushing his back pack onto his shoulder he walked to his house, pushing the door open and following his father to the kitchen. He stood in silence as John poured himself a glass of whiskey, taking a quick gulp in one go. Even thou every fiber in his being was telling Stiles to stay quiet, to walk to his room and wait for the day to be over. He took a step forward and blurted out, “I fought back this time dad.”

John’s stiffen at his words and Stiles spoke out quickly, wanting him to know. “Jackson tried to throw me in the pool and I fought back. I think I hit one of them but I thought you might.. Wanted to know..”

John didn’t turn to him but he bent forward, placing his hands on the kitchen table. Stiles felt beads of sweat forming on his forehead, his fingers wet as they twisted in the straps. It was deafen, the silence.

Stiles jumped back when John moved, spinning around to face his son. Marching forward, John grabbed his son by the labels of his jacket and yanked him forward, watching his son flinch and shut his eyes tighten. “Why can’t you behave for once?” He asked and Stiles gut dropped. “I-I did!”

“Then why did I have to leave the station, in the middle of the work day to pick you up then?”

“I-I tried! I didn’t want them to call you!”

“Do you know how humiliating it is to pick up that phone call? For the other deputies to see me leave to go to my sons school, a request sent to me by the principle?!” Stiles was given a quick shake causing him to drop his bag and grip the wall behind him tightly, his legs shaking. “I’m sorry!”

“No, you don’t owe ‘me’ an apology.”

“Dad! Dad no please don’t!”

“You are going to ask ‘her’ for forgiveness.”  

Stiles started to kick his feet then, his hands gripping his fathers wrist when he was yanked forward. He knew what was coming and panic took over. “Dad don’t! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!!!”

“You will tell her Stiles.” He kept going, his grip never loosening as he pulled his son from the wall, dragging him towards the staircase. Stiles cried out, his feet kicking, trying to plant themselves and push back. His hands reached out and gripped the doorway of the kitchen, trying to hold on but his father only snatched his wrists, prying his fingers off as he forced him back into movement. “Dad no! Let me go! Don’t put me in there!”

“You’re embarrassing her!” His father announced. Pinning his son to his chest with one arm, he gripped the door handle of the house’s stairway closet, yanking it open. Stiles voice got louder, along with his tears that finally fell. John ignored it all and pushed his son inside, slamming the door shut in his face. His eyes narrowed against the pounding door, his fingers quick to slip the lock into place. His son voice screamed out , his fist striking the door, throwing his body against it to break it down. John took a step back, his hands shaking at his side.

“Tell her you’re sorry!’ He barked out, rising it over his son’s sobs. “Tell her!” Soon the sobbing died down to muffled hiccups, the pounding turning into soft scratches against the door. “I’m going back to work. I’ll be home in a couple of hours, I suggest you take this time and get her to forgive you, thou you don’t deserve it. Not from her.”

His son’s voice muffled out another weak ‘Dad please!’ but John turned on his feet, making his way back out of the house not once looking back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! I know a lot of you have asked this question so I'm gonna give you a heads up. I'm trying to write this as cloase to the Carrie world as possible, but just to let you know, I wont be killing off Stiles and Derek like it is in the original.... Don;t judge me, I can't do it! But I'm gonna make it as painful and heart breaking filled as possible, I hope you don't mind :D


	6. chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “For you juniors, it’s your big game. You excited Scott? You win this game, you’ll make it into the finals.” Scott gave her a grin, his head quick to nod. Her eyes narrowed then, a smile touching her lips that set his nerves on high alert. “Do you get nervous Scott? Before the game?”
> 
> “Um.. Sometimes.”
> 
> “Are you so full of energy you feel like you’ll explode? Or is it the complete opposite?”
> 
> “Opposite?”
> 
> “Like you can’t breathe, like you’re stuck in a void with no way out. Like Stiles was yesterday.”

“They laughed at me mom…”

With his back slumped to the locked door, Stiles picked at his jeans, eyes sore at the dim light his flickering candle gave. The closet was small, there wasn’t really enough room to stretch out his legs and he was a growing boy. So there he sat, knees bent, and feet pressed against the opposite wall, tapping away idly to an unheard beat. The room was dusty and old, giving him no comfort or space. It was bare of anything, which did a number on is attention span, he had nothing to focus on, nothing to keep him entertained for the long hours while his dad was gone.

The only thing he had was himself, the candle and a shelf filled of photos.

There were four photos lined up, each only showing the same person. His mother. Each one had her smiling face, her long brown hair flowing so carelessly in the wind. Her lips stretched into a smile that could melt even the coldest of hearts, each one was a different time period. A middle school one where she was starting to grow into her age, pale skin kissed with little moles just like Stiles. A high school one where she gave out a peace sign within a large group of friends, people who gathered around her, showing how popular and how loved she was. The third photo was of her wedding, placed before the church she stepped into with his dad, where she swore to god and all those around her she would love this man til death. She had little white flowers twisted into her thick curls, a veil that covered her face but you knew, you could still see her smile and joy. She looked so beautiful.

The last photo was placed right in the very middle, blown up bigger than the rest so Stiles had no choice but to look at it. She was seven months pregnant in that photo, her body leaning up against the porch pillars, her hand holding the swollen belly. She looked tired, bags under her eyes, a little more paler but her smile showed how happy she really was, her eyes stared with such love at the round flesh of her belly. It was like she didn’t care her feet hurt or her back, she didn’t care if it was keeping her up at night, this was her child and she held him close to her heart, even though he slept under it for months.

Staring at the photo, his eyes closing a little, he reached out weakly to it, wanting to touch it, to trace her face like he had done so many times and wish she was there to hold him like she did in the photo. It was a reminder to Stiles what him coming to this world had cost. A reminder that she gave up everything, gave up her smiles and laughter just so he could cry out.

Was his life truly worth the loss of hers??

Banging the back of his head lightly against the locked door, he flinched, “They laughed at me so much mama.” He whispered, “I don’t do anything, I try to disappear, to stay away from them but they keep finding me. I don’t know what to do.” Closing his eyes, his fingers curled into his knees, clenching tight. “They pushed me in the pool and I was so scared, I couldn’t get out. Everything was going so fast, I couldn’t see where I was, didn’t know which way to swim. I couldn’t get through my head to swim up, My stomach hurt so much I couldn’t even try!” Covering his face with his hands, he yelled out, “ and Derek was there!” He cried out again behind his hands, “He saw the whole thing, he saw how they picked on me, saw how I got laid out and he saw me…. He saw me…” Bowing his head, his fingers rolled through his buzz cut, nails raking across his scalp. “He saw me mom… What am I going to do now?” He pleaded, “He was the only one who didn’t look at me like the others… He was the only one and now he will be just like them and I don’t want that. I don’t want him to join them. If he picked on me, I just.. I can’t. I don’t want that!!” Flinging his arms out, he heard a snap and sharp crack causing him to still. Lowering his hands to the ground, he bent forward, his wide eyes staring in shock.

All four of his mothers photos stood broken. The glass surface shattered, lightning bolt cracks spreading out from the middle to each edge. Lifting his hands, he looked at them, slipping back to the photos. Something wasn’t right. First the mirror in the bathroom, then the water cooler..now…

“Mom.. What is wrong with me??”

 

\-------------------------------------

 

“Alright ladies, due to some people’s belief that I can’t do my job, Ms. Morrell will be taking over for the next week.

“The French teacher?” Scott whispered with a raised brow, looking over to Jackson who shrugged, crossing his arms. Earlier in the locker room, while he and Isaac began to change into their P.E. clothes, Coach Finstock walked out from his office, clip board in hand and began to call out names. One by one each student he called stood up with questionable faces before their coach told them to head outside to the field, the reason will be explained there.

Ms. Morrell took her spot in front of the group, a mixture between junior and seniors. They all looked at one another in confusion before focusing back onto the woman up front. Ms. Morrell stood with her arms behind her back, wearing a bright red track suit. Scott tilted his head at the image, he never seen her wear anything outside of professional attire. It was kind of nerve wrecking, what was going on?

“Hello, I am Ms. Morrell and I’m sure you all are wondering why you are here.” She began to walk down along the line, eyeing each boy. “A big week is coming up, for some of you, its prom.” Some guys shuffled a little when Ms. Morrell stopped before Derek, her eyes locking with his own. “Mr.Hale.” Derek looked down at her silent, “Do you have someone special you’re taking to Prom?” His head tilted up high then, his eyes focusing forward. “No.” He answered.

“That’s a shame.” She kept walking.

“I’m sure a lot of you guys already have your tuxes picked out, got a girl to tag on your arm and a hotel booked for the after parties.”

Some guys chuckled at that and bumped fists with each other in agreement, but she kept talking, this time she stopped in front of Scott and he felt his whole body stiffen. “For you juniors, it’s your big game. You excited Scott? You win this game, you’ll make it into the finals.” Scott gave her a grin, his head quick to nod. Her eyes narrowed then, a smile touching her lips that set his nerves on high alert. “Do you get nervous Scott? Before the game?”

“Um.. Sometimes.”

“Are you so full of energy you feel like you’ll explode? Or is it the complete opposite?”

“Opposite?”

“Like you can’t breathe, like you’re stuck in a void with no way out. Like Stiles was yesterday.”

That got everybody’s attention, “What you all did to Mr. Stilinski was unacceptable. So for the next week you will come here, every day after school where you will do suicides.” A collection of loud groans and outrage left the crowd, Jackson’s voice came out louder, ‘That’s bullshit!”

“Bullshit?” Ms. Morrell made her way over to Jackson, taking in his stand. He stood with his arms to his side, his face covered in outrage. “Why are we being punished for that freak?! It’s not fair!”

“Not fair? You openly humiliated a fellow classmate over a normal body reaction. Something everyone has gone through themselves at some point. I’m sure you have.”

“No I haven’t!”

“It doesn’t matter.” Turning her back to him, she made her way back to the front. “You will run, sweat and cry on this field for the next two hours every day.” Some began to protest, but her voice carried out, “Oh, before I forget. There is a small little detail. If you fail to show up or stop during this class for any reason. You will automatically be suspended.” The groans grew.

“Which means for you Seniors, No prom and for you Juniors. You will not play in the game or the finals.”

“You can’t do that!! Coach Finstock do something!” one of the students cried. Ms. Morrell simply looked over her shoulder at Coach Finstock, who stood there rubbing his face with one of his hands. “ Woah nothing I can do, you all fucked up this time. So put on your big girl panties and just suck it up.” Giving a short glare to Ms. Morrell, she gave him a sharp nod as he grabbed his whistle, blowing.

“Now let’s go ladies! Your legs filled with lead? Get going! Move move move!!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to Apollo95 for agreeing to be my beta!!
> 
> I hope you guys like it so far!


	7. chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Hey! Derek, Hi. Um, I’m Scott McCall. From the junior squad which… You already knew yeah. Um, I had a thought, well not really it’s a plan and I was wondering if you could-“
> 
> “No.”
> 
> “You don’t even know what I was going to ask!”

This sucked, this really REALLY sucked!!!

They were forty five minutes into their work out and Scott felt his lungs about to give. His feet were barking, his back hurt from all the bending he had to do. His legs were shaking; threatening to give out, Scott felt like he tore ligaments, he won’t be able to run again! Or walk!

“McCall! Admiring yourself over there? Get back to running!”

Scott wheezed forcing his feet to move again, rush back to the other side of the field, for the past hour they had run the field, did squats, jumping jacks and now they were running from one side of the field to another, touching the ground then rushing back to the other side, repeating it over and over again. No one had dropped out, the class was pushing really hard, red faced and sweat covered to get through this, they really wanted to go to prom and for himself, he really wanted to play in the finals. Ms. Morrell stood off to the side watching them, her judging eye keeping close attention. Scott had managed to make it to the other side when Jackson let out a yell and stopped, bent over with his hands on his knees breathing hard.

“I’m not doing this anymore!”

One by one the class began to stop to look at him, worry covering some faces. Scott looked over his shoulder and notice Derek had come to a slow stop, bending over to rest his hands on his knees as well. Looked like even the great Wolf man himself was starting to feel the heat.

“This is such bullshit, Coach Finstock you can’t make us do this! Its abuse!”

Finstoack let the whistle drop from his lips, parting them to speak but Ms. Morrell stepped in front of his path, staring Jackson down.

“Mr. Whittemore, I didn’t say you could stop. Keep running, that goes for the rest of you!”

A few beats of silence, shuffled feet started back up, one body passing another yet Jackson stood stiff, turning around to face his fellow classmates. “She can’t do this to us!” He repeated, “They can’t make us not go to finals. If we all stop, there IS no finals, no PROM.” Turning back, he bent forward a little to get into Ms. Morrell face, his lips a sneer. “Without me, there IS no chance at winning. You think your little detention is going to stop the school from letting me play? You got another thing coming bitch.”

Ms. Morrell rose a brow slowly before her hand snapped up, pointing to the school. “Mr. Whittemore, you are suspended as of right now which means you will NOT be going to the game. Now leave.”

Jackson scoffed and looked to his Coach, Finstock only rose his hands up in surrender, shaking his head as if to say ‘don’t drag me into it.’

Turning back around, he sought out another person to stand with him, his hands clenching into fists. Everyone else was starting to ignore him, shuffling their feet to get back to their run, for a moment Jackson felt the cold hand of panic. “Come on!” He barked, his eyes quickly looked to Scott who panted on the side line. “Scott, come on. Without us they can’t go, you with me?!”

Scott peered up at him through his wet bangs. Scott had a moment to think, should he follow Jackson and walk off the field? A flash of Stiles’ fear covered face came to mind, his voice yelling out caused Scott to shake his head. “Come on Jackson.” He grunted out, “What we did was stupid.”

“W-What? Come on Scott!”

“Dude Jackson, chill!” Scott panted, “Just… forget it, let’s get this over with.” Without another look back, Scott took off, following back down field. Jackson looked around again, shocked. “Mr. Whittemore.” He turned to Ms. Morrell, watching her walk past him. “Don’t make me repeat myself.” Giving him her back, she barked out another work out, making the students drop to the grass. Jackson huffed a little, taking a few steps back before yelling out, “This isn’t over!!” With a shake of his head, he marched away,

“Not by a long shot!”

 

\---------------

 

Stiles was Xavier.

Okay he wasn’t bald or in a wheel chair but it still counted, he had powers!

Stiles made his way silently into the school’s library, pulling his jacket closer around him. Last night was not a pleasant one, ugh who was he kidding. Every night wasn’t a pleasant one. His dad didn’t return until close to midnight, finally unlocking and letting Stiles out from the closet. John didn’t utter a single word and Stiles didn’t want him to. He simply got to his feet and stepped out, letting his dad give him one last look before tilting his chin towards the stairs, a clear dismissal in Stiles eyes.

But the things that happened, all the accidents spun in his head. He did those things, somehow. Some way.

He had powers.

So there he stood, in the middle of the library, his eyes wide and his mind searching. He was going to get answers. He’ll get them here.

After a couple of hours, Stiles sat alone at one of the many tables the library provided, books stacked all around. His fingers smeared with blue and red inks from his pens, caps chewed mercilessly as he read, getting lost in the words, in the notes.

Telekinesis.

That’s what he had to have, man if he could have any power THAT had to be a top one. Getting to his feet, he rushed to the computers, his limbs restless. He had something special, he just knew it! Tapping away, he pulled up youtube and searched that word, watching one video after another of others who had it too, others who could float into the air, move books and objects with their mind, with a simple flick of their wrists. It was over whelming but this… this was the closest thing Stiles ever had to joy. He had a power, he could be a superhero. His cheeks hurt but he didn’t care, he kept grinning, staring in awe at the screen, watching a pale hand hovering over pages of a blank book, flexing its fingers and with every little movement, one page began to rise and fall.

“You can make that bigger.”

The voice caused Stiles to jerk and fall out of his chair, his head snapping up to look at who had spoken. Above him a girl stood her eyes wide as well before letting out a small laugh. She was very pretty, long brown hair, pulled back into a half pony tail. Stiles never seen her before and he kind of knew everyone’s faces.. more so because they picked on him. She must be new. A sudden movement made him flinch back, one arm rising up to cover his face and that got her to frown. She held a hand out, offering her help and Stiles acted like she was going to attack him… Well could you blame the guy? “You okay?” Lowering his arms, she still stood there, bent closer, choosing to keep her arm out to him, an unsure smile touching her face. With a deep breath, he reached out and took her hand, his heart racing when she pulled him back up. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

He looked away then, his fingers twisting into his sleeves. He should thank her, say something but his voice was lost, he could only stare at the floor, shuffling his feet from one to another. “I just, didn’t know if you knew. Here.” Turning back to the computer, she clicked on the video that still played, double tapping the screen causing it to blow up and take over, letting him see more clearly and get closer detail. His eyes went wide and when he looked back to her, she gave him a reassuring smile.

“Allison, we’re going to be late.”

They both looked back to watch, who Stiles liked to think, the very goddess of this school grace them with her presents. Lydia, such a thing of wonder and beauty, she was a being Stiles would worship… and would  love to be. She was flawless with her strawberry blonde hair, perfectly painted lips and bright sharp eyes. She was beautiful and she knew it, used it to her benefit. She was smart, hell she was a genius! She looked at him with a raise of her perfectly plucked eye brow, her pouty lips a press of thought before looking away, gracing her friend with her attention. “Well?”

“I’m coming.” Allison made her way back over to Lydia’s side, giving Stiles a small wave bye. He could only sit there and watch them leave, Lydia flipping her hair over her shoulder in her turn.

He wanted to be like her… Was that weird?

… Not as weird as having powers… Stiles chuckled a little. At least Allison was nice…

 

\---------------------------------------------

 

“Hey! Derek, Hi. Um, I’m Scott McCall. From the junior squad which… You already knew yeah. Um, I had a thought, well not really it’s a plan and I was wondering if you could-“

“No.”

“You don’t even know what I was going to ask!”

Derek let out a frustrated sigh, lowering his burrito back to his plate. All he wanted to do was eat in peace; he knew he should have gone out onto the field for his lunch break. No one bothered him there.

“Don’t care.”

Scott gasped at him, his body hunched down on the table to rest his forearms. He shook the table a little; the action and display made him look like a middle schooler instead of the high schooler he said himself to be.

“No, come on. Hear me out, it’s for a good cause!”

Derek didn’t even answer but took a bit from his meal; letting his eyes look out the window he sat by. Maybe if he ignored the junior, he’ll take a hint and leave him alone.

“So, you’re not going to Prom with anymore.”

“I’m not going to Prom period.”

“What? Why?! Every Senior is going! You HAVE to go!”

Derek looked at him then, his eyes narrowed. “I don’t have to do anything.” Pushing up from the chair, he got up but Scott let out a yell, lunging across the table his arms swing until his fingers snatched Derek’s wrist. “No please! I’m serious!”

The glare that Derek shot at him made a shiver go down his spine and made his hand pull quickly away from his sleeve. “Sorry! I won’t touch you but please…hear me out.”

Derek just rolled his head before sitting back down, snatching his drink. “Two minutes.”

Scott gave him a grateful smile and Derek will not comment on how much he looked like a puppy cause that was stupid. Taking a sip from his soda, Scott began.

“So you should take Stiles to prom with you.”

Derek was in a state of shock he didn’t feel the soda spill onto his lap. With a curse, he grabbed napkins quickly, brushing at his jeans quickly, “What?!”

“Yeah! I bet it would be fun!”

“You take him then!”

“But,… I’m a junior.”

Derek wiped his mouth quickly, staring at his stained thigh. Shit, he still had two more periods before he could go home not to mention he had to do that stupid detention WHICH he didn’t understand he had to go to since he wasn’t even involved. “I’m not taking Stiles because I’m not going.”

“Look I’ll pay for the tickets, I’ve been saving from this summer job. Come on, we owe this to Stiles!”

“ _We_?” Derek laughed, “From what I remembered, I wasn’t the one who pushed him into the pool.” Scott had the guts to bow his head at that and frown, his fingers drawing invisible patterns on the table top. “I know. I screwed up, that’s why I want to do this. Stiles needs a night where he feels… special.”

“I still don’t see why I have to take him. Just go apologize to him.”

“Apologizing won’t make up for all the years we picked on him.”

“I didn’t pick on him.”

Scott groaned, bowing his head to bang against the table. He needed to do this, he wrote out all his plans, all the ways to make up to Stiles and this, THIS was perfect.

“Come on Derek. You have to know how he feels for you!”

This got Derek’s attention, his thick brows narrowing down. “What are you talking about McCall.” Scott waved his hands a little, “He’s got like the biggest crush on you. Always watching you when you’re on the field, dude I thought he was going to have a nose bleed the first time he saw you shirtless. If you asked him to Prom, he would agree to you in a heartbeat!”

“One; I’m NOT going to prom. Two; Stiles does NOT have a crush on me and Three; I’m not into guys.”

Scott looked at him, his face giving off a good ‘you kidding me?’ vibe. “I got two words for you.”

Derek crossed his arms then, waving his hand at him to spill.

“Josh Ellison.”

Scott could only grin at the startled look on Derek’s face, how his body went stiff and his eyes shot wide. “…..How?” Scott only chuckled shyly, rubbing the back of his neck, “Dude? Making out on the bus during half time? Not really slick there.”

Derek snarled at him then, pushing himself back to his feet. “Alright, you got me but I’m still not going to prom.” He began to leave, Scott quick to follow. “Please Derek! Just think about! If anything, you owe him as much of an apology as I do!”     

Derek spun around, pointing his finger into Scott’s face, causing the young man to jump back. “You can’t guilt me into this since I didn’t do anything.”

“Exactly! You didn’t do ANYTHING.”

Derek’s lips parted in outrage but Scott stepped closer, his own narrowed eyes looking into Derek’s own, angrily whispering his words. “I admit I was not the nicest person to him, I picked on him and I’m willing to make up for it. You knew he was being picked on, even watched and you did nothing to help him. You’re just as much to blame as me.”

“McCall you are crossing a dangerous line.” Derek growled but Scott only growled back, “You could have helped him, shit half the school is scared of you but you ignored him and let it happen. I bet if your brother was treated like Stiles.”

“Don’t bring my family into this!”

“You wouldn’t let it happen, you would have kicked both mine and everyone else’s ass so don’t stand there and think you’re better than us. You’re not. Your just as much to fault as I am so WE, and I do mean you and I, WE owe this to Stiles.”

There they stood, toe to toe, Scott panting heavily while Derek clenched his teeth in rage. A cough got Scott to break eye contact, finally noticing the lunch room had suddenly gotten silent and everyone was watching, a sea of confused faces as to what Derek and Scott were whispering about.

Scott cleared his throat then, taking a step back. “So yeah… Think about it and get back to me.” And as quick as his sore legs could go, he rushed away, leaving a pissed off Hale behind.

‘Shit.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is Derek going to ask Stiles to prom? Will Stiles say yes? Will Scott regret this choice? 
> 
> I hope you guys are enjoying this, I'm hitting a writing spree and I'm giggling with the chapters coming up!
> 
> Thanks again to Apollo95 for being my Beta!


	8. chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He seemed a bit on the thin side, his cheek bones were coming out, his little up turned nose, a cause for many names like ‘pig boy’, oddly enough fit his face if Derek was being truthful. Little moles covered his face, not a lot, just a few and it worked for him, one could have hours of fun tracing them, licking them to make those thin lips lift in a smile.
> 
> He blinked, woah. Where did that come from?

Derek didn’t need this. Slamming his locker door shut, he made his way to his last period wanting the day to just be over. Stupid McCall trying to guilt trip him, this wasn’t his fault. Besides, he wasn’t going to prom, he was going to go home, relax in his room and fill out the college forms his mother keeps leaving on his desk. She understood why he didn’t send anything out, cut off dates were fast approaching and Derek… He just didn’t know what to do with his life. Walking into his class, he approached his chair and when he sat, he looked towards the window and jerked a little in his seat at the sight.

That’s right. Stilinski took this class.

Advance English was their last period, Derek forgot about that. Well it wasn’t very hard, the boy always hid in the corner, staring out the window and ducking down into the desk when the teacher walked in. Pressing his lips, he slumped back into his chair and just took a moment to stare at the boy. Stilinski was… different. At the moment the boy was holding a worn out book, fingers stroking the edges tenderly. The book looked old, the binding cracked and bearing the shedding of the cover itself. It was read often, must be his favorite. Taking his eyes away from the book, he looked up to the boy himself, watching him staring out the window. He seemed a bit on the thin side, his cheek bones were coming out, his little up turned nose, a cause for many names like ‘pig boy’, oddly enough fit his face if Derek was being truthful. Little moles covered his face, not a lot, just a few and it worked for him, one could have hours of fun tracing them, licking them to make those thin lips lift in a smile.

He blinked, woah. Where did that come from?

Their teacher finally walked in, settling himself behind his desk. “Alright Class.” He began, “Let’s start with the assignment from yesterday. Does anyone want to read out their favorite poem?”

Derek groaned with the rest of his classmates, Derek really hoped this wasn’t an, ‘everybody has to do it’ cause that’s going to be painful. Like you would figure, no one raised their hand, so the teacher pressed his lips and pointed to the back. “Stilinski. Why don’t you come up and read your favorite poem.” Derek watched the boy jerk and look up startled. The boy looked so scared, Derek was half expecting him to up and run out of the room like some scared little bunny. With shaking hands, Stiles pushed to his feet and shuffled his way up front, students already chuckling and whispering behind his back. Once he got to the front and faced the class, his face turned beat red, his body hunching forward to curl in on himself. His clothes made him look so small, so lost. Derek felt a warm urge to get up there and stop this.

The students just stared at him, some giggling again and pointing. Stiles took a deep breath and began to talk but his voice was a whisper, letting no one hear his words.

“I can’t hear him!” One of the girls called out causing more laughter to flow out, Stiles held his book up a little more, as if to hide behind it when his teacher commented, “Speak up Stilinski.”

Again, Stiles took a breath and spoke out, his voice shaking and cracking a little to some of the words,

               ‘From childhood's hour I have not been

        As others were; I have not seen

        As others saw; I could not bring

        My passions from a common spring.’

 

As Stiles read on, some of the classmates just looked at one another, some just going back to their own book and reading for themselves. Derek knew what Stiles was reading, he studied it a few nights ago, the meaning behind it made something in his chest squeeze. What the hell was wrong with him?

 

Once Stiles finished, no one spoke, an awkward silence gathered in the room. Closing the book, Stiles looked towards the teacher and the teacher only shook his head. “That was a…strange choice Stilinski.” Stiles just looked away and rushed back to his chair, ducking down into it as if he would disappear. The teacher stood up there, clapping his hands with a hearty laugh, “Would someone else like to read something less depressing?”

 

“Asshole.” Derek muttered.

 

This teacher suddenly raised a brow to him, arms crossing over his chest. “Hale, did you say something?” Derek looked back at him, narrowed eyes meeting narrowed eyes. He had the urge to say it out loud, to call him out for picking on Stiles. “I said, ‘Awesome.’” Derek answered “Edgar Allan Poe was a great mind, or at least that’s what you said before when we went over our exam review last week. Isn’t he on the final?” Derek smirked with smug pride on the look on his teachers face, seeing him flustered for a moment before going, “Yes… Yes he is. V-Very good Stilinski, whose next?” Derek wanted to pat himself on the back for that one, he really didn’t like his English teacher, he was always a dick to any student he felt was a waste to his teachings. Glancing back over, his eyes met Stiles own and his pride vanished. There the boy sat, his brown eyes wide and good lord… they were brown, not like that dark brown where they could look black or even brown like dirt no.. they were a brown that Derek couldn’t even describe. They looked the color of whiskey and Derek wondered for a moment if he truly was intoxicated from it.

 

Stiles looked at him confused, like he didn’t understand why Derek did that. Why did Derek defend him? The guilt Derek swore he did not have, the guilt he ignored and buried and shoved in Scott’s face wasn’t there, came rushing back at him like a tidal wave, leaving him with the cold feeling in his bones. Looking down at his books, Derek pressed his lips, wondering what he should do. Should he say something to him? Chancing a glance, he looked over at Stiles. He was back to looking out the window, a dash of red coloring his ears.

 

\---------

 

When Derek saw Scott again, he was getting changed into his gym clothes for the end of the day detention. He walked up behind him and slammed Scott’s locker shut causing the teenager to jump and spin around, his arms sticking out awkwardly in his shirt, half his head peeking out from the collar. Derek just sighed at him with a irritated face before pointing at him, “You are paying for the tickets and gas money.” Derek nodded to his words, getting out what he wanted to say and stalked off towards the door, wanting this two hours to be over with. He rolled his eyes to the victory ‘YES!!!!’ behind him that was no doubt Scott figuring out Derek’s comment.

 

Fucking McCall.

 

 

\-------------------

 

“As you can see Principal Bryce, My son has been treated unfairly.”

 

Jackson sat with a smug smile, staring at his high school Principal as he sat behind his piss poor desk. They had this coming. “My son has told me Ms. Morrell has verbally abused him by using the words ‘bullshit’ and even making fun of him before his team mates. That’s bullying Principal Bryce and could lead to emotional damage.”

 

“Ditto.” Jackson muttered but his father gave him a quick glare, one hand rising up to silence him. “From all the info I have, I can sue this school for all it has and turn this place into a parking lot.”

 

“A parking lot hm?” Principal Bryce muttered, letting his eyes glance up towards Ms. Morrell who stood by his desk, staring both son and father down. Mr. Whittemore nodded, lacing his fingers in his lap. “You know I am a lawyer and I am very good at my job. So, to keep this matter between us adults, I know we can come to an ‘agreement’ of some sort.”

 

“What kind of ‘agreement’ are you aiming for?” Ms. Morrell asked, her monotone making Jackson glare at her. She should be pissing herself, his father was a damn good lawyer, he won every case he was ever given. She should be apologizing and kissing his ass!

 

“Well, first off. I cannot have an adult with such poor behavior be in charge of my son’s education, let alone in the very building so I am demanding for Ms. Morrell’s immediate termination along with my son’s suspension wiped from his record and of course, letting Jackson play in this weekends big game.”

 

Principal Bryce and Ms. Morrell stood silent before them, no one uttering a word and Jackson could just laugh. In your face! You messed with the wrong kid, no one pushed Jackson down and got away with it.

 

Ms. Morrell uncrossed her arms then and placed her hand on the desk, picking up a folder that Jackson didn’t notice before. “Mr. Whittemore.” She began, his father straightening up with attention. “I do not know if it has come to your attention, but I am also the schools guidance counselor.”

 

“It has not.”

 

“In my year of working here, I have over fifteen reports of bulling.” Taking out a sheet, she handed it to the older man, her eyes cutting to Jackson’s face. “All naming your son as the cause.” Mr. Whittemore took the sheet, removing his glasses from his coat pocket to settle upon his face. “Not only that,” She continued, pulling out another sheet from the folder, handing that one over as well. “ We also have property damage caused by one Jackson Whittemore, with photograph proof of course since I know any parent would demand such.” Closing the folder, she handed all of it over, a small smile on her face, “ What I believe is the biggest issue here, is the damage caused onto one ‘Stiles Stilinski.’ Do you know him?”

 

Jackson watched his father stiffen, fingers clutching the folder. “Yes. That’s the Sheriff’s son.”

 

Ms. Morrell nodded, “You’re correct. I have witness statements from the nurses of this school describing every bruise, black eye, twisted ankle and cut Stiles Stilinski has ever received from your son and well… As you can see, there is quite a few.” Mr. Whittemore was flipping through the pages while Jackson gripped the arm rests of his chair. No, no this isn’t going how he planned it at all!

 

“I’m sure the Sheriff wouldn’t be so thrilled to find out your son has been causing trouble for his only child.” 

Mr. Whittemore closed the folder, his face pinched. Principal Bryce chooses that moment to speak, “With all these reports Mr. Whittemore, it would be a shame if they went through. Why, it could damage young Jackson’s reputation. What would the head administrator of those colleges your son has been looking at saw this? I hear some are very against bullying of any kind, this could lead to a refusal of his admission. Even with your name.”

 

Jackson let his jaw drop, outrage covering his face. “Dad! They can’t do that!”

 

“Shut up!” Mr. Whittemore hissed, turning his head to stare his son down. “If you just kept your nose out of trouble for one more fucking month I wouldn’t have to be here so just shut up.” Jackson trembled in rage while his father went on. “… What are your terms Principle Bryce?”

 

The fat man, Jackson snarled, just sat back in his chair and bowed his head towards him, “ I will keep these claims from hitting your son’s record or even getting out on the terms that if he is caught doing anything out of line again he will be held accountable for it all.” Mr. Whittemore nodded to it, “With that. Jackson is still suspended for the rest of the week, he may return to school Monday and he will not be able to play in the finals if his team wins this weekend.”

 

Jackson let out a yell, shoving himself to his feet. “This is bullshit!” He cried out before marching out the door, slamming it shut behind him. Mr. Whittemore just cleared his throat and stood up, picking up his briefcase.

 

“Then we have an agreement. Good day Principal Bryce…. Ms. Morrell.”    

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beat by Apollo95
> 
> Did you enough Jackson's smack down? Cause I did.


	9. chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh god. Oh god. OH GOD. Stiles felt his heart racing, he was starting to sweat, Derek was asking him, STILES, if he needed a ride home! He could be in the same car, within the same space, breathing the same AIR as him. “I-I uh… Its well.” Derek just gave him another smile, tilting his head down to look over the rims of his sunglasses at him. He looked so bad ass, he always wondered what it would feel like to be the person he looked at when he did this, to be the certain of his attention and god, it felt great!
> 
> “Get in.”

“I want a statement the second he’s clear. Got it?”

The two deputies under his command gave a quick nod before turning their backs to him, making way back to the lobby. John Stilinski gave a deep sigh, rubbing his forehead tiredly. Another drunk driving accident, normally he could walk through it with ease, find the cause, get the statement, get the scenes and get the case filed but his nerves were on edge. He knew why, he was surrounded by it and it ate away at his wall he tried so hard to build.

He was back at the hospital that took his wife away.

Closing his eyes, he took deep breaths, the muffled voices, machines beeping, they all reminded him of that night. The night he rushed here with his wife, the women he loved laying in the back seat of his cruiser, weakly telling him to be careful, that they would be alright.

She would be alright.

“John?”

He lowered his hand to look to his side, finding a smiling Melissa McCall. She looked up at him with tired eyes, her curly hair pulled back into a messy bun. She was the head nurse now, a desired position but sadly the hours were endless and work was that much more difficult. She was one of his wife’s friends, he could still sometimes hear them talking in the kitchen of his home, planning the baby shower and nursery. Melissa was there the night she past, she had helped for the first year. John was… he slipped into a depression and he couldn’t bring himself to care for Stiles. He would leave the crying child in his crib and sit in his room and just stare at the ceiling, unable to cope with the fact his wife was never going to lay next to him. She wasn’t going to roll over and push him out of bed to go to work, to take care of their child but he just couldn’t. Melissa came that day and saw what was happening and took Stiles with her and told him to get help, he needed to take care of Stiles, this was a part of his wife, the child she gave her life for.

It took time, countless hours with a therapies, John started to get back onto his feet. Stiles was returned to him, his smiling face staring up into John’s eyes, chubby hands touching his face, feeling the hairs of his three o’clock shadow. This was what was left from his wife…

A daily reminder that she was really gone.

“Melissa.” John greeted lightly, “I was just on my way out.”

He took a few steps but Melissa quickly grabbed his arm, her face a frown. “John, I heard what happened to Stiles.”

“It’s fine.” He said quickly, tugging his arm gently from her grasps but Melissa just shook her head, “No, it was cruel and I am sorry. What Scott and his friends did was unacceptable and I just wanted you to know that the school isn’t the only place he’s getting punishment from,” She laughed softly “… But John please don’t hold it against him. Scott really isn’t like that, he just… easily follows a crowed. He really is a good boy.”

“… Thank you Melissa.” John muttered and that made her smile, relief showing on her face. It was short lived thou, because John took one look at her and uttered, “But if your son touches Stiles again I am personally hauling his ass in, following a crowed or not.” Melissa stood there speechless, her lips parted in shock as John walked away from her.

As John left the building, the weight was not taken off his shoulders. He owed it to his wife to protect Stiles, to keep the outside world from harming him. He remembered all the times Melissa told him he would grow to love Stiles, that his son would slowly replace his wife and John would come to care for him just as much if not more. John did not feel that, no, he felt numb and angry every time his eyes fell on his son, so he kept away. He gave Stiles a roof to protect him, a bed to sleep in and food to grow but that was it. Stiles did not earn John’s love and at this point of time, John could not give it anyway.

 

\----------------------

 

Stiles couldn’t believe it.

He replayed the event in his head over and over. Each time it was the same and each time he didn’t understand. Derek stood up for him. Hugging his newest books, Stiles began his long walk home. He stopped by the library after school to drop off the books from yesterday and picked up some new ones. He wanted to try out his powers tonight, figure out how exactly can he use them and how were they triggered. There had to be a trigger, there was always a trigger. Pulling his back pack a little more onto his shoulder, he watched the sidewalk pass under his feet. Oh always the same, never changing side walk. His face went a little red as he let out a chuckle out, Derek stood up for him. That means something right?! Stiles hoped it meant something, perhaps Derek didn’t think he was a freak, maybe Derek wanted to be friends? That would be awesome, they could hang out and Stiles could tell him about his powers! His eyes widen at that, maybe Derek would be his side kick! Oh! Oh! Maybe an inside man! It would be prefect!

Lost in thought, he failed to notice an approaching car. Soon a black sleek camaro came to a slow stop next to him and Stiles felt a small fear of panic. He knew that car, there was no way. The tented windows rolled down and inside, Stiles refuses to admit he could swoon, no, he just felt light headed cause Derek was inside, a pair of sunglasses blocking his eyes, that leather jacket hugging his frame. Stiles cheeks went pink and a small whimper let his throat when Derek gave him a half smile, showing his white perfect teeth. God Derek had such a handsome smile.

“Stiles right?”

He could only nod dumbly, finding himself bolted to the ground. He couldn’t move, he didn’t want to. Derek was talking to him, on his own free will, this was a dream come true. “You heading home?” Stiles nodded again, he really needed to act cooler, and he should say something like, ‘Hey Derek.’ Or maybe, ‘Whats up? Nice car. Bet that gets all the girls.’ He frowned down at his feet at that. What the hell is wrong with him? He heard doors being unlocked and he glanced up to see Derek remove his backpack from the passenger seat. “How about I give you a ride?”

Oh god. Oh god. OH GOD. Stiles felt his heart racing, he was starting to sweat, Derek was asking him, STILES, if he needed a ride home! He could be in the same car, within the same space, breathing the same AIR as him. “I-I uh… Its well.” Derek just gave him another smile, tilting his head down to look over the rims of his sunglasses at him. He looked so bad ass, he always wondered what it would feel like to be the person he looked at when he did this, to be the certain of his attention and god, it felt great!

 “Get in.”

Stiles felt himself move forward and reach out, shaking fingers touching the handle of the door, his eyes couldn’t move themselves away from Derek, his handsome face, the whole package! Right here, his crush is sitting right in front of him, smiling at him, talking to him so easily, looking relived when Stiles touched the door like he was nervous Stiles would refuse…

Wait…

Quickly he removed his hand, taking a few steps back. Why? Why was Derek suddenly being so nice to him? He never knew Stiles before, never looked at him or even tried to talk to him and suddenly, BAM, Derek does a one eighty and suddenly wants to be friends? Dread filled his bones, damn it. Stiles should have known, this was a prank, it ALWAYS was a prank. This is how it always started, one of the guys start to be nice to him, lead him into a false security, honey coated lies spoken into his pleading ears that they were going to hang out and Stiles buys it EVERYTIME and each time they attack him, each prank crueler then the next. Well not this time! He won’t be laughed at anymore.

“Stiles?”

“Leave me alone.”

Turning on his feet he rushed away, keeping his focus forward. How could he do this, Derek, of all people?! Did Jackson put him up to this? He never pictures Derek reaching so low yet Derek was acting just like that. He won’t let this happen again, he learned. But Derek just followed, letting his car move at a crawling place at his side. “Stiles! Get in!”

“No thank you.”

“It’s going to take another thirty minutes before you get home. It’s faster this way.”

“I have legs; it won’t kill me to use them.”

Derek huffed out a sigh before speeding forward, Stiles felt sad then, not wanting to refuse but Stiles just couldn’t buy into it again. Not from Derek… His gut dropped thou when the car only came to a full stop, engine cutting off. What was happening? The driver door swung open and Derek came out, showering Stiles in all his glory and perfection. The older teen walked around the car and onto the sidewalk, blocking Stiles path.

“Stiles listen to me.”

“Why are you doing this?”

This caught Derek off guard, removing his sunglasses, he pocket them away as Stiles backed away, his eyes narrowed. “W-Why? Is this a prank? Are you going to take me to another school and kick me out and laugh at me?” Derek face fell then, slipping back into the emotionless expression he always had, that’s the Derek Stiles knew, that’s the bad boy everyone looked upon. Tears prickled Stiles eyes, he knew it. No one was ever nice to him without a reason. “Please, leave me alone.” He walked away, going around him, wanting to get home quickly so he could cry this out on his own in the safety of his own room. Derek squeezed his fingers together, balling them into fists at his side. This was not good, he tried the good guy act and Stiles saw right through it. He had to do something, anything! Spinning around, he watched Stiles retreating back before blurting it out.

“Go to Prom with me!”

Stiles body went still, the books he held dropping to the ground. Derek flinched a little at the sound but he kept his eyes focused on the back of Stiles head, watching the teen slowly turn back around. Those wet eyes looked at him in shock and Derek felt the need to rush over and wipe them away, to dry them out. Those eyes should never cry, they should always be happy and glowing with delight, never red like this.

“Wha…What?”

“Go to Prom with me….Please?”

Stiles began to shake his head but Derek approached him, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets. “It’s this Friday. You won’t have to pay for anything, I’ll take care of it.” The closer he got, the more Stiles began to freak out. This wasn’t happening, his heart was going to beat right out his chest. He could not stop the tears that fell then, he didn’t know what to do! Was this part of the prank or what this really true? His mind screamed with questions and his heart swelled with hope. His brain yelled it was a prank but his heart screamed it was real, he wanted it to be real. Sniffing, he looked up at Derek when he was finally close enough, just a foot step away. From this distance, Stiles could smell his cologne and it smelt so… earthy. “Why are you doing this?” He asked weakly and Derek surprised him still.

With gentle slow hands, Derek reached up and brushed his thumb across Stiles cheek, wiping away the fallen tears. Stiles gasped at the action, his skin burning from the touch. “Cause I want too.” Derek answered.

“B-But you never talked to m-me before. Why now?”

Derek looked away then, letting his arms drop back to his side and Stiles had to fight the urge to snatch them back up and keep them against his face. “Look Stiles, “ Derek sighed, “ I made a lot of mistakes. I should have done something, anything to help you and I didn’t and I just…” Stiles started to understand, the depressing thought was heavy on his mind. “… Is this a pity date Derek?” He whispered.

Derek looked up then quickly before growling out, “No.” Stiles took a step back, Derek was quick to remove the rage he felt from his face. He would not be the cause of that expression on Stiles face. Derek would not be like everyone else in school. “No… This is my new start. I don’t deserve one but I wanted to try. So, Stiles… Will you go to prom with me?”

Stiles didn’t know what to think, what to trust. Derek was looking at him with such hope and Stiles couldn’t fight it. What… what if this was real? What if his dream was coming true and Derek wanted to get to know him and become his friend. He wanted this to be real, so Stiles took the chance, took it for Derek. His lips trembled as they lifted into a smile, unshed tears still filling his unsure eyes, but Stiles gave a small nod.

Dereks brows shot up, his own half smile on his face. “Is that a yes?”

Stiles sniffled and gave another nod, this time a full one before answering quietly, “Y-Yes.”

Derek let out a sigh before a deep chuckle. “Great! That’s Great.” There they stood, look upon one another, Stiles afraid of moving in fear that what every spell that was surrounding them would break and the real world would come crashing back and Derek, well he couldn’t move because he didn’t know what to do now. Stiles agreed and he felt… happy about it. Breaking eye contact, he gave a quick cough before rubbing the back of his neck, “So, how about that ride?”

That got Stiles to laugh, his hands quick to cover his mouth. Stiles has never seen this side of Derek if he didn’t know any better, he could swear Derek was just as nervous as he…

And that was a nice thought.


	10. chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Look Stiles, I know I’ve been an ass.”
> 
> “Asshole really.” Isaac offered.
> 
> Scott nudged him quickly before placing his hands on the table, palms up in surrender. “…Asshole but I want to apologize. I shouldn’t have done those things to you and I just wanted to make it up to you?”
> 
> Stiles let out a weak laugh, “How?”
> 
> Scott bit his lower lip looking away, “Well, I thought I could help you get ready for sat-“
> 
> “What the hell do you think you’re doing McCall?”

Stiles was walking on cloud nine.

Holding his food tray, Stiles made way towards his empty table, the one furthest in the room, placed in front of the exit for easy escape and in front of one of the many windows so he can look out since no one really sat with him. Normally that fact would sadden him and he would spend the whole time wondering why he was so different but right now he couldn’t. He was still so wired from the day before.

Placing his tray down, a deep sigh left his throat as his lips lifted up into a grin. Derek Hale asked him to prom, an event that was supposed to be special. Guys are supposed to ask people they liked, girlfriends, boyfriends to go with them and it would be just magical. Dancing, music playing, glowing lights everywhere and Derek Hale asked HIM to be apart of it. Sitting down, Stiles couldn’t help the laugh that came out, his hands quick to cover his face but he just couldn’t do it! He wanted to jump onto the table and yell, ‘DEREK ASKED ME TO PROM! DEREK CAN SEE ME!’ Shit, he just wanted to scream out, which he did into his pillow when he got home.

Derek dropped him off in front of his house and asked him for his phone number to text him later. Stiles was giddy with joy, his dad got him a cell phone, a flip phone really and he hated it. Not for the fact that everyone else had those fancy Iphones or stuff but it was just, no one wanted Stiles number so his phone was always empty. Only messages from his dad… if he was lucky. But not anymore! Nope, Derek had his number and as of right now. Stiles pulled his phone out to pull up the text message, his cheeks hurt so much from all the smiling, he stared at the text he gotten.

‘My number.’

Sure, it was just a text to let Stiles save it into his contacts but it was still a text! On his phone! FROM DEREK!!! Biting his lower lip, his fingers squeezed the phone lightly, he wanted to text him so badly. Wanted to ask how his day was even thou it was the afternoon. He wanted to ask him if he changed his mind about prom, tell him thanks, ask him to come eat with him or even just say hi… He just wanted to but he was scared. He never had this happen before, was he suppose to wait until Derek texted him again? Could he just go ahead and send him one? What if he doesn’t reply back? What if Derek gets annoyed by his messages that he blocks him and tells him he changed his mind? He didn’t want that to happen.

“Looks like someone got good news today.”

His phone hit the table with a ‘crack’ when Stiles jumped. Quickly he snatched the phone and pressed it against his chest, his smile wiped clean from his face. Looking up, he was met with two other students, one smiling face and the other had a bored looking expression. Once Stiles got his heart beat to go down, he finally noticed it was Scott McCall. Both boys put their trays down on the opposite side of his table and took a seat, leaving Stiles out of his comfort zone. He never had people sit with him before, while he stuttered an answer, Scott began to talk, waving his hand to the curly blonde hair kid next to him. “This is Isaac, do you mind if we sit here? We were gonna eat outside but I saw you over here, you were smiling REALLY big, and I know that kind of smile cause Isaac said I smile like that when I think about Allison. You know Allison right? She’s new here, just got in last month, man she’s really pretty, she’s got this long brown hair, just pretty eyes and when she smiles, my brain just gots ‘pfft’ but that’s okay cause she smiles at me like that all the time and I don’t mind my brain going away if I get to keep having that.”

Stiles stared at him with wide eyes as Scott grinned at him with his slightly crooked jaw, his friend, Isaac just let out a sigh, taking a bit of his fry. “Sorry, he wont shut up about her.”

Scott shot Isaac a half heated glare before digging into his food. “Anyway, I knew that kind of smile so I wanted to come by and see it myself!”

Stiles stayed silent, frozen in place. He didn’t know what to do, should he answer? Stiles had the urge to get up and flee, to get away. Something wasn’t right here, them being so nice to him all of a sudden. “I-Is…” He began, “I-Is this a prank?” The smile that took over Scott face suddenly disappeared, even Isaacs fork stopped mid way from his plate to mouth. They both looked at him with blank faces and Stiles began to panic. His hands trembled, his heart raced, his breathing became rapid. “It is isn’t it?” He huffed, “All of it. Y-You are just trying to get me to do something s-stupid a-and then embarrass me, is that it?” Isaac laid his fork down slowly, his eyes looking to Scott for an answer and Scott just bit his lip. “Look Stiles, I know I’ve been an ass.”

“Asshole really.” Isaac offered.

Scott nudged him quickly before placing his hands on the table, palms up in surrender. “…Asshole but I want to apologize. I shouldn’t have done those things to you and I just wanted to make it up to you?”

Stiles let out a weak laugh, “How?”

Scott bit his lower lip looking away, “Well, I thought I could help you get ready for sat-“

“What the hell do you think you’re doing McCall?”

All heads turned suddenly to look at the new voice, a voice that growled so loud that half the student body in the room looked over. Behind Stiles Derek stood and he looked pissed. Scott stood up quickly, his hands waving to explain but Derek just sneered at him, grabbing Stiles forearm, yanking the teen to his feet. “Stay out of this.” He pulled Stiles, giving the teen enough time to grab his bag before he was pulled away. Stiles looked over his shoulder at the shocked faces of Isaac and Scott before looking down to his hand. Derek was holding onto his wrist tightly, tugging him along, and never letting up until they pushed out the doors. Stiles face was beat red, his body shivering. Everyone was looking at them, staring at them in shock and bewilderment. Once in the hall, Derek let him go, a cold feeling Stiles disliked the second his fingers lost contact with his skin. Derek just sighed, rubbing his hand on his face, muttering to himself. Why was Derek upset? It was nice thou… to have someone stand up for him, Stiles won’t deny that. Yet when Derek was pulling away, he acted like he didn’t want Scott to know something… wait. Stiles frowned at this.

As Derek stood there, Stiles looked up at the back of his head, telling his body to stop reacting to the pull of Dereks t-shirt, how his back looked so…solid.

“…Derek..”

Derek turned to look back at him, his arms lowering to the side. “Sorry… McCall can be.. stupid sometimes.”

:… He was apologizing to me…”

Derek huffed a little, his arms crossing over his chest. A movement that caused his forearms to flex and his muscles to tighten and oh my GOD he needs to STOP.

“… He wanted to help me out with Saturday? Derek.. Does Scott know about you taking me to prom?”

Derek stiffens at that, his eyes narrowed at the lockers across from them. Stiles’s gaze went down in confusion before his face fell. Looking down at his feet, his arms suddenly lost their strength, all that energy he felt this morning gone. His bag hit the ground with a heavy ‘thump’ causing Derek to look at him quickly. Stiles just kept looking at the ground, his lips twisted in a grim smile. “It’s okay..” He whispered, “ I-I get it…” He laughed softly, his palm reaching up to rub at his cheek. “ It’s about image right? Reputation? If word got out that you’re taking me… I get it.” He nodded, “We can.. just forget about it. No biggie right?”

Derek just stared at him, his face showing nothing. Stiles figured that was his answer so he accepted it. He was about to walk away, just go to his next class when suddenly, Derek stopped him with a hand on his chest. A very big strong hand.. that had A soft warm pressure that seeped into his bones. “Wait.” He whispered. Stiles looked up into his eyes  and Derek just gave another huff before walking back to the cafeteria doors, shoving them back open and with a deep breath, he voice shouted.

“I’M TAKING STILES TO PROM.”

Once again the room went silent, people paused in mid motion. They just looked at Derek like he was crazy and Stiles truly believed at this point of time, he was. Derek just gave a nod before turning his back to them, he marched back over to Stiles, who stood there, mouth open, eyes wide. Derek smirked down at him, his head tilted up in pride. “I’ll pick you up after class.”

And then he was gone, walking, fuck no Derek was strutting down the hall and Stiles could only just stand there, his mind reeling.

 Did… did that just happen?

\-------------------------

 

“What the fuck do you mean Stiles is going to prom?!”

Jackson sat on the edge of his bed, his phone pressed to his ear. His face was red with rage, eyes wide. With clenched teeth, he hissed. “Are you fucking kidding me?!”

He threw his phone after that, letting it crack against the wall of his bedroom. Shoving himself up, he paced nude, his arms fling out. “How did that FREAK get to prom?! Who the fuck does that guy think he is?!” On his bed, the covers moved, letting his bedmate look up at him with a raised brow. Messy blonde curls framed her post climate face. Kate just stretched, moving like a lazy cat upon his bed, her fingers tugging the sheets up to her chest. “So pig boy got to prom. What’s the big deal?” She watched her younger love pace and she just let out a yawn, sinking herself a little more into the plush pillows. “Let the dork have his ‘night’.” Jackson only glared at her, cutting the air with his right hand. “That’s not the point!” He hissed, walking to his window, he yanked the covers back to look outside, his fingers curling into the frame.

“Then what is?” She cooed.

“The point is that little dickward gets to go to prom while my ass is here! I can’t go to finals because of that fucker!” Kate laughed then, her fingers brushing idly threw her hair, “Poor baby.” Jackson just snarled at the glass, his eyes never moving from the road. “ I don’t know what Hale’s game is but I’m going to get to the bottom of this.”

“Hale?” This caused Kate to sit up, pulling the covers with her. “Which Hale?”

Jackson left the window then, returning to the bed side to side down grumble, picking out his pants from the pile of clothes on the floor. “Apparently Derek is taking Stiles. Not only is that freak going to an senior event but at the same time, Derek just out himself. I’m gone for two days and everything goes to shit!”

As he began to dress, Kate pressed her back against the headboard. Her eyes narrowing down in thought, fingers picking at the covers lightly. “Derek Hale hm?” She whispered, “… My, isn’t this interesting..”


	11. chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She paused her music to look back towards him, her brows up. “ You’re playing the notes.”
> 
> She looked at him like he was insane, her finger that held the neck of her cello pointed at the sheet. “That’s cause I have too, how else am I going to do this?” Derek pressed his lip a little before he noticed an object to the side. Walking to it, he explained. “Music is supposed to be played with feeling. The instrument is a part of you, an extension of you. The notes should be played how it feels within the notes, not by how it’s written.”
> 
> “Wow, that’s deep.”
> 
> “Shut up.”

“Mr. Stilinski?”

Stiles came to a stop in the middle of the schools hallway. He was just on his way to study hall, the last period of the day when Ms. Morrell called out, standing within the doorway of her office, a small smile placed on her face. He looked at her in question as she gave a small wave, beckoning him over. “May I have a word with you?”

“Um, I have…study… study hall?”

“Its okay. I’ll write a note.” She turned away then, entering her office leaving Stiles alone outside. It only took it a moment before he finally followed, his shoulders hunched up. Ms. Morrell had a small office, just enough room for her desk and two chairs across. It was made to feel roomy, even for a small room with pictures of landscapes it made it feel… homely. He never been here, he always tried to stay away, Ms. Morrell was the schools councilor, she was suppose to help the struggling teens with any problems and sometimes Stiles was tempted to go to her… but the track record of help from adults were a all time low, he just figured she too, would ignore his troubles, and just tell him to keep his head up and push forward.

“Please, sit.”

He took a seat, watching her take her own. She gave him another small smile, lacing her fingers together on her desk. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you.” She began, “ I know you seem to be going through.. Some tough times.” He looked away then, his fingers curling into his knees. “The event that happened a few days ago.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” He said quickly.

She only gave a nod, her hands flatting themselves on the surface. “Of course. We won’t talk about it but I just wanted you to know, it is a very normal and natural thing to happen.. And those boys who hurt you, they have been given detention for their actions.”

Stiles looked at her eye wide, his lips parted in shock. She gave him a warm smile, pushing her black hair a little bit over her shoulder. “ I want you to know if they do ‘anything’ to you Mr. Stilinski. You come to me and I will deal with them.” He just kept staring at her and she just kept smiling, waiting patiently for his reaction. She wouldn’t be surprised if he got up and ran out, she had dealt with a lot of students who were bullied, each one withdrawing into themselves, not wanting to reach out for help anymore.

“Stiles…” He finally spoke. She tilted her head a little to him as he looked away, his fingers picking at his jeans. “.. You can call me Stiles.”

“Stiles.” She repeated, giving him a smile that showed her teeth when he smiled back at her. “ What would you like to talk about? Can be anything you want.”

 

\-----------

Derek was looking at his phone when a hand snatched his shirt from behind and yanked him. His voice barked out in outrage, spinning to whoever touched him only to still at Ms. Morrell. For a women, she sure had one hell of a grip. He was about to demand to know what her problem was when her pointer finger shot to his face, making him jump back, “You better not be doing this as a prank Mr. Hale.” She hissed. Derek scoffed at her but she only stepped closer, keeping her finger at his nose, “He is a good kid. So help me, if you are doing this for a prank I will make sure every day for the rest of your school year will be in detention!”

His face twisted in rage at that point. Pushing her hand away, he growled, “It’s not a prank!”

Her lips pressed themselves at him, her eyes narrowing. She did not believe him and Derek didn’t care. He didn’t have to put up with this; he had to go get his little sister. He turned away but her hand grabbed his forearm quickly, her fingers squeezing making him clenched his teeth. He looked at her again, his face showing his outrage but she kept her cool, her face blank of emotion besides her narrowed eyes. She squeezed his arm tightly again, whispering, “You get him a boutonniere.” Letting him go, she walked by him, tossing one last note over her shoulder, “ Don’t fuck this up or I’ll come get you personally.”

\---------------------

 

Derek pressed his lips in frustration. He was sick of people telling him this was a prank, yes it was shocking and YES he couldn’t put it past people to assume the worse when it came to Stiles but Derek was getting sick of it. He wanted to punch every person in the mouth for suggest that to him! Rubbing his forehead, he made his way to the music room, peeking pass the windows. School was almost out, he told Stiles he was going to take him home. He sent out a quick text telling the teen to met by his car, getting a simple ‘K’ as a responds. Perhaps he could talk the teen into getting something to eat. Stiles looked a little too lanky and Derek wanted to change that, a little meat on those bones would do him some good.

Inside the room, he gave a small smile at the sight. His little sister Cora was sitting, music sheets on her stand. She was alone practicing, cello resting against her, making her look so small compare to it. This brought back memories, some good.. some painful. His mind began to wonder, remembering ‘her’ face, her small upturn lip and warm eyes, the little mole right under her eye that he wanted to kiss time and time again. He also remembered the day she went away, telling him she would keep in touch but that was years ago. Her phone calls were all but silent and letters were rare… Derek was saddened by her absent, but she was offered her dream on a sliver plate. A dream his little sister was now starting to chase. Cora looked so be struggling, her face twisted in concentration before she gave out a loud grunt and stopped suddenly, the notes scratching unpleasantly to his ears.

Pushing the door open, he approached her as she glared at the sheet, the bow held tightly in her hand. “It’s not right.” She muttered, her eyes never leaving the sheet. Derek walked up behind her, looking over the music notes with a raised brow. “You’re playing the ‘Game of Thrones’ theme as your entrée?” Cora shot a glare up to him, her thick hair pulled back tightly in a bun. Like this she looked just like their mother and that alone told Derek when she grew, she would be just as beautiful if not just as scary. “Everyone is going to be playing some boring piece!” She explained, “I want to stand out, knock them back for a loop. This song will be perfect, if the notes AGREE with me!” She huffed out again, her free hand squeezing the cellos long neck, fingers pressing the strings. Derek let out a sigh, his hand touching the back of her neck lightly. She didn’t shrug him off but simple slumped back into it. This was a big deal for her, in a month she would be placed before a group of judges who would either agree or deny her a scholarship. It was a big deal, he understood but Cora has been practicing too much, coming home with sore fingers and a creak in her neck. She wanted to be perfect; she wouldn’t stop until it sounded just right.

Letting her go, he shoved his hands into his jean pocket and began to walk around the room. “Start from the top.” She shot him a look, her lips twitching to argue but he shot her a raised brow making her shake her head before picking her bow back up. With a deep breath, the horse hair touched the string and began to play, Derek listened, his eyes tracing around the music room. As she began to play the first couple of notes, he called out, “Stop.”

She paused her music to look back towards him, her brows up. “ You’re playing the notes.”

She looked at him like he was insane, her finger that held the neck of her cello pointed at the sheet. “That’s cause I have too, how else am I going to do this?” Derek pressed his lip a little before he noticed an object to the side. Walking to it, he explained. “Music is supposed to be played with feeling. The instrument is a part of you, an extension of you. The notes should be played how it feels within the notes, not by how it’s written.”

“Wow, that’s deep.”

“Shut up.” He muttered. “You want help or not?” Cora just sighed before nodding. Derek pulled out the case he noticed, approaching her. “You need to feel the notes, understand how their placed down. If you can make the listener feel the emotion, make the listener understand even if they never heard it before, you do this, you have yourself a scholarship.” His sister just flicked the strings a little, plucking soft notes. “… Do you think I’m any good?” He placed the case down in the seat beside her, popping it open. “No.” Her face twisted in hurt but he only tapped her forehead, forcing her to look up to him. “You’re great, you just need to just.. Accept the music vs fighting it.” She gave him a little smile then, which he returned. Pulling out the violin from the case, he tested the strings, tightening them to the right note if needed. “You’re going to play?” Cora asked excitedly.  Derek gave out a soft chuckle, plucking a few strings. “The song you picked is good but you’ll need to have someone else play with you. The cello by itself is fine but the second instrument will add the missing notes to make the song much stronger, plus it’ll bring out the cello more, which you want.” Picking up the bow, he held out his hand to her. She blinked at him which left him sighing. “I need the sheet.”

She jumped then, “Oh! Here!” Quickly she pulled out her music book, flipping the pages to the right one. “I forgot to don’t know this one by heart.” She giggled; he rolled his eyes, taking the pages, placing them on his own stand. “It’s been a while.” He explained but she only grinned up to him happily, her feet bouncing in joy. Rolling his head a little, he placed the violin against his shoulder, pressing his chin down on to the chin rest. For a minute, he brushed the bow across the strings, placing his scales, fixing any flat notes he heard before deeming it good. It felt strange holding this instrument again yet it felt normal too. Sitting himself down beside her, he began to tap his foot. “You lead in.”

Cora gave a nod before getting back to her stance, another deep breath, she brought her bow down and played the first note, with narrowed eyes, Derek began to play the first score, a repeat beat, and his feet keeping the count. He counted 1,2,3,1,2,3,1,2,3 before coming to an end, letting Cora play her solo, soft long notes. When she hit the third he stopped her with a hand placed upon her strings, cutting the notes short. She looked at him puzzled before he shook his head. “You’re still just playing the notes. You seen this show right?” She gave a nod, “This show… it’s about power, about family. The first season is all family, then losing that family, lies and love. Don’t just play, feel. Let the listeners feel what you feel when you play this. Now again from the top.”

Taking the bow back up, he counted out loud to her before striking the first note, Derek played his part, taking his eyes from the sheet to watch his sister, she counted softly, her eyes never leaving the sheet and when her part came, she played but this time, this time Derek gave a smirk. Once they got to the part where they both played as one, he couldn’t help the laugh that came out, watching Cora from the corner of his eye as she played, and her own smile appearing. Her body moved with the beat, her fingers moving smoother, letting the notes come out with a raw need, a sound making you want to close your eyes and picture yourself on a battle field, armor and blades, the smell of fire and smoke and horses kicking up high. The bows pressed harder and their breath got louder as they played, the music getting louder, the feeling stronger, strings on their bows breaking in the pressure but the notes, oh the notes, they never let up, they never paused. They played as one, bringing to life a world of magic and mystery.

Once they reached the end, they both sat panting, Derek staring at his sister as she stared wide eyes at the sheet. “… I did it.” She whispered. Quickly she looked to her brother, an open mouth smile on her face. “ I played through it!” Derek gave her a nod, his own smile on his face as she squeals. “If you play like that.” He commented, “They would be brain dead not to pick you.”  She nodded to his words, he began to stand up but her hand came out and grabbed his shirt sleeve, her eyes looking up to him in a plea. “Derek! Play with me on my entrée!” Derek looked at her shocked before she urged on, “It would sound better if I had a violin part in this, please? M-Maybe they might pick both of us!”

“I don’t want to pla-“

“Der I don’t know why you gave up the violin.” Cora quickly cut in, “I know mom and dad won’t ask anymore… but you are really good. I mean ‘really’ good! You looked like you were having fun, you understand this more than anyone I know. If you teach me then I know I can play this right and besides…” She looked down, her fingers squeezing his sleeve tightly, “.. I want you to play next to me.”

“Cora I can’t-“

“Please Der.” She whispered, “For me?”

He stared down at her, her hopeful face pleading with him. His walls were crumbling, his own personal reason for putting down the violin was good, the raw pain he felt playing it again was coming back but when she looked at him, when she begged and held him so tightly. He just…

“.. Okay.”

The smile she gave him dulled down the pain he felt.

Just a little thou.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Sorry for the short chapter, works been getting crazy! But here, I give you a little peek into Derek's life with his adorable little sister! The song they are playing can be heard here, 
> 
> http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B3vqcbJwgCI
> 
> Why has Derek put the violin down I wonder......


	12. chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I will not hear any more of this!” He barked, “I said no!”
> 
> “Dad stop it!!”
> 
> The light bulb over head shattered in a burst of light causing John to jump back. He was quick to touch his gun, his body spinning, eyes searching for the threat. “What the?”
> 
> “Dad please listen to me.”

So this wasn’t awkward. Not at all.

Stiles kept his eyes down at the table he sat at, his fingers picking at the straw wrapper helplessly. He wanted to say something but nothing was coming to mind. His heart was racing and his mind was jumbled with questions, with worry. Was this a date?! It felt like a date!

Derek sat across from him studying the menu, looking as calm and cool, like having Stiles eat with him was a normal every day thing. IT WASN’T! WHY WAS HE ACTING LIKE IT WAS?! Closing his eyes, Stiles took a few deep breaths, trying to calm his racing heart. It’s okay, this was good. In one hand, this was a dream come true. He never went out on a date before.. This was good! He shouldn’t kick the horse in the teeth… that was the saying right?

“Do you know what you want?”

Derek’s voice snapped him from his zone, looking up blushing. Across the table Derek rose a thick brow, a half smile on his lips, as if he was trying not to laugh at him for his mannerism… which wouldn’t really be that bad. He would like to hear him laugh at some point. Biting his lower lip Stiles gave a small nod, letting his eyes stare out the window they sat beside. Derek picked a nice little corner in the diner, a warm spot where the low setting sun gave them the warmth the AC, which Stiles felt was on full blast, denied them. The view was nice too, instead of the street you saw the woods the diner was built by, the owners were really big into nature, wanting their customers to be lost in their minds by mother nature as they enjoy the food or whatever jazz they were saleing. Yet for loving nature so, they weren’t like the others. By which they only sold non meat items and soy everything, they had it but they also understood people were different and had different taste.

Oddly enough the diner was one of the most popular places, Stiles found himself here a time or two while he walked home. Sometimes he would spend hours here, just sitting in a booth, messing with his food, swirling his drink with his straw and just wait… For what? Stiles didn’t even know. Maybe he was just waiting for time to speed up so he could turn eight-teen and get away from his school… Maybe he was waiting for someone to sit across from him and ask him how he was doing. Offer to eat with him..just something...

“I was.. going to get a burger.” Stiles replied softly, “..with curly fries.”

Derek hummed a little, leaning back in his booth. “Curly fries?”

Stiles eyes went a little wide before scoffing, “Don’t knock it til you try it, they are really good!” Dereks brows shot up the same time Stiles covered his mouth, his face covered in surprise. Where did that come from? Derek tilted his head at him a little then before giving a little nod, his head shaking in amusement. As Stiles touched his jaw a little in shock, their waitress appeared, tapping her pen against her notepad lightly. “What can I get you two?”

Derek looked up to her with his normal bored expression, waving his fingers a little at Stiles, a clear signal for him to order first. Stiles straighten a little in his booth, looking up to her and gave a small smile. It was Sue; she was a part timer, waiting behind the counter or on the floor. She was pretty, long auburn hair pulled back into a messy bun, tired green eyes that looked at him before being given a warm smile. She was in her late twenties, trying very hard to scrape money together to make her dream come true. Sometimes she would talk to him when there was no one else around, tell him her dream of traveling to England and making a new life there. Finding love from a man with an accent and kind eyes, who would be there when she woke up every morning at her side. Her dream was nice and Stiles wanted the same, perhaps he would travel someday. You never know.

“Hi Sue.”

Sue chuckled at him; her fingers reaching out to brush threw his hair. “Someone needs a haircut.” Stiles flushed a little before reaching up to brush at his strains. He normally always had a buzz cut, but time just slipped by and he didn’t even notice his hair changed. “.. Is it that bad?”

“I dunno, what do you think sir?”

Stiles looked over to Derek who looked up from his cell phone, puzzlement on his face from the strange question. Derek looked at Sue who glared back down at him, The act making Stile let out a small groan, oh no. no no no. Was Sue trying to embarrasses him? Derek pressed his lips a little before giving a shrug, “He looks fine...” Stiles lips parted at his words, a little flutter in his gut returning. Sue gave a small nod before returning her attention to Stiles. “You getting your regular?” Stiles nodded as she wrote down onto her pad, “And for you?”

Derek took one more look to Stiles before handing his menu over, his sight never leaving his. “The Same.”

Stiles gave a slow smile, “… With curly fries?”

Derek gave a small smirk before returning his look to Sue, “and a glass of water please.”

Sue nodded to them before picking up Stiles menu from the table, he looked to her and she slipped him a quick wink before returning to the counter to enter their order.

Stiles shifted in his seat again when the silence returned, he wanted to say something but feared he would ruin this moment. He was, oddly enough, having a really fun time. Picking at his wrapper again, Stiles straighten his spine and took a chance.

“… Thank you… For taking me here.”

Derek glanced away a little, one arm sliding along the booth top, stretching himself out and man… That wasn’t fair, why is it whenever he does something simple he looks like he’s posing for a spread in playboy? Derek’s brow shot up as his face become a sudden display of shock.

Oh.. Oh crap.

“…..Did I say that out loud?”

Derek nodded slowly causing Stiles to sputter. Flinging his arms out, he yelled, “Ignore that! I-I didn’t mean, oh my god what am I doing?!” Covering his face in shame, Stiles began to scoot, “I-I’m just going to leave now before I say anything else.”

His wrist was caught then when his hand settled on the table top, to help push to stand. Stiles looked at that hand, following the tight grip along the arm to see Derek stare at him, his face punched in a glare. No one spoke, just stared. Was Derek going to tell him he changed his mind and they won’t go to prom? Was he going to tell him to sit back down and ignore what just happened?

Was he laughing?

Wait.

  
Stiles jaw dropped when Derek slumped forward and barked out a laugh, his shoulders trembling as he tried to keep it contained but it was impossible. Letting Stiles wrists go, Derek curled his arm over the table and buries his face into it, his voice huffing out little whimpers of chuckles, his free hand holding his stomach. Stiles was too shock to move and take this chance to run, he never heard Derek laugh so hard… Man, he never heard Derek laugh period.

Lifting his head back up, Derek looked up to Stiles only to burst out laughing again, his hand waving at him from the table. “W-Wow.” He snorted, “I-ve been told a lot of things but that.” Derek pointed, “Never that.” Stiles was over heating, he wouldn’t be surprised if his whole face was red. Bowing his head, he rubbed the back of his neck, “ I’m going home now.”

Yet Derek took his wrist again. This time, his grip was gentle, fingers giving his wrist a soft squeeze. Stiles glanced back to Find Derek looking up at him, his face once again sober; you wouldn’t be able to tell he had been laughing. Stiles could thou, Derek’s eyes were still soft, almost shining with the afterglow of laughter. “Sit back down.” Derek spoke, his thumb brushing along Stiles palm causing the younger teen to shiver. Chewing on his bottom lip a little, Stiles agreed. Derek let him go causing Stiles hand to suddenly become cold. Derek had such a warm touch; Stiles wouldn’t mind holding his hand a little longer. Perhaps, some day Derek would allow him to hold his hand, maybe even at prom.

Taking his seat again, Stiles looked back out the window, this time he felt more at ease. Embarrassed yes, but he felt.. Better. He made Derek laugh, no one could say that!

So in silence they sat and waited for their food, both staring quietly out the window and for once, Stiles didn’t mind it. For he was not alone this time and with a little effort and a whole like a nerves, some day they would be able to talk about anything and everything.

Stiles was looking forward to that day.

 

\------------------------------------------

It has been so long.

John stood between the door frames of his home, just arriving from his double shift. He listened, his eyes wide. Soft little tunes coming from the kitchen, a soft glow of light seeping into the hallway, leading him the way, beckoning. The door swung idly at his side, tapping lightly against the wall, tapping like his heart. Car keys gripping in his hand fell to the ground with a clutter, shaky footsteps taking one step after another carefully. Could it be?

Strong scents of food hit his nose, aromas making his mouth water and his heart squeeze and yet the humming went on, so soft, so joyful. His body went weak and slumped against the hallway wall, his hands gripping the side table where he normally would throw his coat. He held on, his eyes pricking with tears, the sense of home hit him, hit him hard. Clicks and taps could be heard from the kitchen, food being scraped from pans, plates and glasses being set upon the dining table. The sounds, the sounds of his past coming back to him making him huff out a weak chuckle. Could it, no. And yet the music kept going, the humming never stopping.

Pushing himself away, he approached the entrance to the kitchen, his mind racing, his heart pounding, his face breaking into a smile. He knew it, did he wake up finally? Did this dream finally end? Was the pain finally over?

Into the kitchen his feet took him and the sight knocked the very air from his lungs, leaving him with a cold seeping sense of reality. His body that felt so light now weighted him down to the floor, his knees threatening to buckle at the sight. No, he was still here, still walking endlessly within this nightmare and this was just another mockery to his face.

She was still gone.

In her place, his son stood. Stiles turned to him then, his eyes, so much like hers, were wide and almost glowed in his shy smile. “Dad.” He began and John felt another piece of his heart rip apart, no. She was not there to call his name, to take his coat and kiss him hello. No, his son was there instead, sliding something into the oven, his face, so pale and tender, like hers, flushing red from the heat. “Dinners almost done. I’m… I’m making your favorite.”

A dish she would make him…

“I wanted to tell you something.” Stiles went on, his face breaking into a bigger smile, cheeks pink. He looked so happy, his body carrying him towards the fridge with a bounce, “Something happened and-“

His son kept talking and John just tuned him out, he just couldn’t move. His son walked freely with no remorse of what he was doing, Stiles was filling this place, this kitchen with himself, replacing her. Her songs, her voice that use to hum within Johns mind, music that he could listen to days on end suddenly vanished, replaced with his. Dread hit him, he was forgetting, everything that she was were being replaced. He looked around then, his heart frantic. He needed to see her, to feel her again and the kitchen was her domain. This was the place she stayed, where she laughed and cried. This was the place John would sit and think and see her again, walking across the marble floors, tsking at him when he didn’t eat or tried to sneak another drink. This was Johns area to go to when he wanted to remember her.

And now Stiles was trying to take it over.

Stiles had his back to him, his voice still going. No, Stiles cannot have this area. Stiles can NOT take this too! John began to approach him, hands reaching out.

“Can you believe it Dad? He asked me to prom.”

Stiles turned towards him, jumping back when he noticed how close John had gotten. His back hit the counter, almost knocking over the mix for stuffing he was making over. Stiles looked up, frowning in confusion but John just gripped his forearms, squeezing tightly.

“No.”

Stiles gasped a little, quickly to try to pull out of his grip. “Dad please! Derek promised to meet you, said he would come in and talk to you!”

“I.Said.No!” John barked again, pulling his son away from the counter. He had to get him out of the kitchen before Stiles smell and presence left its stain, ruining this room. “I already agreed!” Stiles stated, his feet kicking to stop himself from being removed. That will not do, John will drag him kicking and screaming, Stiles will NOT take this from him!

“I will not hear any more of this!” He barked, “I said no!”

“Dad stop it!!”

The light bulb over head shattered in a burst of light causing John to jump back. He was quick to touch his gun, his body spinning, eyes searching for the threat. “What the?”

“Dad please listen to me.”

John looked towards his son again, slowly this time. There his son stood his hands in fists at his side. “Dad… I don’t know how but Derek likes me.” He spoke lightly, a broken smile on his face, “H-he treats me like I-I’m normal.”

“You’re not normal.”

Stiles flinched at that, the table that lingered at Johns side suddenly shifted, smacking into Johns hip knocking him a few steps back. He looked from the object in shock before back to his son who wiped quickly at his side. “Yes I am.” John took a step towards Stiles, one hand hovering out towards his son and the other staying safely above his weapon. “How did you move that?”

Stiles pressed his lips a little before squaring his shoulders. “I’m a super hero dad.” John squinted his eyes a little before growling out, “I don’t have time for your stories!”

“I’m not lying!” Stiles yelled, “I have powers! Great powers, I-I can control things! With my mind!”

“You’ve completely lost it.” John whispered, “We need to get you to the doc-“

“Dad just listen to me for a second!”

“No Stiles! This?! This is not normal! Something is wrong with you!”

“There’s nothing wrong with me!”

“We’re going to the doctors and we’re going to fix this, after that you will call that boy’

“He’s name is Derek.”

“Of course, a Hale. You will call him and tell him you changed your mind.”

“Dad no, I’m going to the dance with him.”

“You’re not going anywhere and that’s final!”

“I don’t care, I’M GOING!!”

John felt the wave of rage suddenly hit him. Stiles was talking back to him? Fighting him? Stiles would never do that, he always did what he was told! “How dare you.” John hissed, “ I am your FATHER! You will respect me!”

“Why would I respect a son of a bitch like you?! If mom were here-”

This caused John to gasp out. No, Stiles will not use his wife’s name in vain. He will not drag her into this! Shoving forward, he snatched his sons’ shirt collar and backhands him, knocking Stiles head back from the force. “You will not mention her!” He shouted, yanking Stiles out the kitchen and into the hall, dragging him towards the stairs. “You little piece of shit, you took her from me!” He hissed, his free hand snatching his sons hands when they grabbed at his coat. “You don’t have the right to taint her name and you will ask her for forgiveness for it!”

“Let me go!”

“You will-“

“I won’t go back in there!!”

John body was shot back suddenly, his back slamming into the hallway table, shattering it across the floor. The air left his lungs leaving him gasping at nothing, his back arching in pain. Something hit him, hit him hard. Letting out a hiss, he rolled to his side, a flash of hot throbs hitting him across his chest and back. “Fuck.” He whispered, there has to be some broken ribs in there.

 Looking up, he found Stiles standing down the hall, his body shaking. Stiles looked down at him with rage, a thin trail of blood seeping from the corner of his mouth where his lip was split. Stiles began to walk towards him causing John to groan out when he tried to shove himself back, to try and get some distance between them. Getting onto his stomach, he used his arms and began crawled towards the front door but it was slammed shut in his face. Johns eyes widen more when the locks themselves slipped into place. “What..”

“I won’t ask for forgiveness.” Stiles voice caused John to jerk and look back, watching his son glare down at him. “I won’t go back into the closet. Never again Dad.” John panted a little, pushing himself to sit up slowly, teeth bearing down against one another from the pain. “Stiles.”

“Shut up!”

Pictures frames flew off the wall and crashed beside Johns head making him fall back onto his side, crying out from the flare of his broken ribs.

Stiles came to a stop before him; waiting until John tilted his head back, letting Stiles see the sweat that coated his face. “No more talking.” Stiles spoke softly. John held his right side tightly, ducking a little when Stiles took a step back.

“Things are going to change Dad.” He began, “I’m going to prom and you can’t stop me.” Stiles smiled and waited until John finally broke their eye contact and stared at the ground. This was it, Stiles no longer had to be scared of his father, from anyone.   

“Not anymore.”

Saying his piece, Stiles turned his back to his father then, his feet carrying him back into the kitchen. “Dinner will be ready in twenty.”


	13. chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You have no fashion sense yet you manage to snag one of the hottest upper classmen in the school. God know how.”
> 
> Perfume bottles began to hover slowly in the air, their shinning sleek surface glowing in the light as they began to slowly twirl.
> 
> “If you showed up on Derek’s arm wearing something that could ruin my reputation as head of Prom committee, I’d be the laughing stock of my class, I won’t let you ruin this.”

Stiles had no idea what to do.

Everyone else knew the steps, knew what they needed to buy, to get, but him? He was at a lost! Looking around the department store, he felt his heart race. Should he get a tux? Do proms call for tuxes? Or maybe just a nice dress shirt and slacks? Stiles didn’t really have anything at home, his father’s clothes didn’t fit him and his father never bothered to buy him nice clothes. They never go out; they never do anything that calls for it. Approaching one of the many displayed tables, his fingers traced along one of the nice shirts, feeling the soft fabric. He couldn’t help but smile at that, lifting it to see it closer. It was a pale peach, clear buttons blending. It was really nice; would Derek think it was too? Would he hate it? Stiles was unsure.

“Put that down.”

The sudden voice jerked Stiles into a yelp, dropping the shirt. Spinning around he was cornered by no other then Lydia, her hard green eyes glaring. He hit the table when he backed into it, his fingers quick to stop it from rolling away. “I-I uh.”

“Stilinski.” She spoke sharply, causing him to go stiff. Why was she talking to him? He should get away, run away. He took a side step but her hand snatched his forearm, perfect painted nails sinking into his sleeve. “Do you know I am in charge of this year’s Prom correct?”

He shook his head slowly at her.

She just rolled her eyes, tugging him to follow her around the table. “Ever sense I was a freshmen, I was determined to take over the prom committee. It would be a nice piece to add to my thesis when I submit it next week to my college, even thou I hardly need it to get in but you can never have too much.” She hummed to herself. Stiles followed her dumbly, confused and bewildered. Soon she came to a stop in another section of the department store, her hand letting him go to snatch another shirt from a close by rake. “So, while I was making my rounds I come to over hear that Derek Hale is taking one, Stiliniski, to the prom.” She snapped her head back at him, her strawberry blond hair flipping around her gracefully; it would bring any women to tears of envy of how beautiful she looked. Stiles could admit it… if he wasn’t scared she was going to rip his throat out with her bare hands.

“Now I’ll admit, I was skeptical at first.” She huffed before tossing the shirt at him, causing him to fumble to catch. Soon another joined, whites and purples, reds and black, one after another soon to be followed by dress pants, slacks, coats, the pressure and weight causing Stiles to struggle to keep upright and refuse to let any fall to the ground. All a while, Lydia kept talking. “But after Dereks little speech in the cafeteria the other day, there was no use trying to ignore it. I want my prom to go off smoothly, I want it perfect and I want all the other classmen’s to look at it and loath that they couldn’t skip a few grades like I to join me in my brilliance.” Holding up a neck ties, she pressed her lips at the black and blue swirl before tossing it back on to displace.

Stiles was trembling with the weight of the clothes, Lydia kept rambling and kept steering him from one corner to another, adding more, taking away some until Stiles finally snapped. Tossing the pile he held, they poured onto an empty counter he found, his face red when he turned to her. “Why are you doing this?!” He demanded. She finally stopped talking then, looking at him with a perfect raise brow. At that point an associate was next to her, looking at them both with a force smile and confused gestures. Lydia just closed her eyes a little before looking to the worker, pointing at the clothes. “We need a dressing room.” The worker was quick to get away, picking up a few items of the clothes Stiles had dumped. There they stood a standoff. Lydia crossed her arms over her stomach while Stiles balled his hands into fists at his side.

Approaching him slowly, Lydia flicked her right hand at him lightly. “Do you ‘own’ anything nice Stilinski?”

His flushed cheeks gave her the answer she expected.

“The way I see it Stilinski. The only hitch in my prom is you.”

His eyes dropped to the floor then, his teeth clenching tight. He was sick of hearing that, hearing all the jokes, the insults aimed at him. A soft pulse in his palms and behind Lydia, items began to shake, rattling upon the glass tables they lingered upon.

“You have no fashion sense yet you manage to snag one of the hottest upper classmen in the school. God know how.”

Perfume bottles began to hover slowly in the air, their shinning sleek surface glowing in the light as they began to slowly twirl.

“If you showed up on Derek’s arm wearing something that could ruin my reputation as head of Prom committee, I’d be the laughing stock of my class, I won’t let you ruin this.”

The bottles turned, nuzzles aiming for the back of her head, another pulse and they spun faster, blurring in their motion.

“So that’s why I’m going to help you.”

This jerked Stiles head up. The bottled that were aimed suddenly fell shattering on the ground behind Lydia causing her to jump a little. She looked over her shoulder and looked back at him confused. Stiles on the other hand kept staring at her like she lost her mind.

“..Help me?”

Lydia looked back at the mess on the floor, her head she was trying to put pieces together but she simply gave a shrug before walking towards the dressing room. “Yes. Now go try those on and be quick, the perfume is going to give me a headache.”     

 

\----------------

 

“McCall!”

Scott came to a slow stop from the side lines of the field. Removing his halmet, his breath quick in pants. He was in the middle of his warm up, practice was starting a little late due to their detention, Coach Finstock was yelling at a group across the way over their hussle so he wouldn’t notice Scott slipping away. Jackson was standing off to the side, arms crossed. Scott walked over confused for a moment, not understanding why he was there. Jackson was kicked off from the team for the week, he shouldn’t be at practice. “Jackson.” Scott greeted, removing his gloves to wipe the sweat from his forehead. “What are you doing here?”

“Just because I’m not playing this weekend doesn’t mean I can’t come and make sure you’re not fucking up my hard work.”

Scott scoffed at him, Jackson was always giving him shit. Ever since Coach let Scott become Co-Captain, Jackson took every wrong play or stunt and blamed it on him, even if Jackson made the call in the first place. Jackson just walked closer, removing his sunglasses. Leaning closer, he whispered, his eyes glancing out onto the field, watching his team mates rush about. “So rumor has it Stilinski is dating Derek Hale.” Scott turned his wide eyes back to Jackson, his fingers squeezing his lacrosse stick tightly, “R-Really?”

Jackson narrowed his eyes a little, thin lips pressed, “Any idea why?”

Scott shook his head slowly, “ No… Maybe Derek kind of likes Stiles?”

Jackson just huffed a little, slipping his hands into his coat pockets, “Derek doesn’t like anyone.”

“Maybe Stiles is the exception? Derek kind of made it really clear the other day during lunch.”

“If he was interested in anyone it would have been me. Something is up.”

“Not everyone is into you Jackson.”

Jackson looked at him sharply causing Scott to take a step back, “Yes they are. You need to find out what Derek is playing at. Something is going on and I want to know what.”

Scott shook his head, “Dude no. Just let it go, let Derek do what he wants and just walk away.” Jackson sneered at him, his facial featuring turning cruel and cold, “What the fuck McCall, which side are you on? I can forgive your little stunt during detention the other day but you better tell me here and now. Are you with me or are you suddenly with that freak?”

“Don’t call him that!” Scott snapped, taking a step into Jackson personal space, their nose’s almost touching, each others breath brushing along each others cheek. “ Don’t you EVER call him that again.”

“You got something you wanna say to me Scott?”

“I do.” He hissed, “Fuck you Jackson. Get off my field.”

“This isn’t your field.” Jackson hissed.

“You’ve been benched Whittamore.” Scott grinned then, “You don’t have a say on any calls or plays. As Co-Captain, I do. So,” Taking a step back, Scott gave a wave, “Get off my field.”

Jackson jaw dropped a little, watching Scott retreating back. Curling his fingers into a fist, teeth clench so hard they felt they were going to crack in his mouth, he growled out. No one talked back to Jackson, and even if they did, they never walked away unmarked. This is war now, there was something going on, something Scott had his hand in, the boy never stood up to Jackson before, he never stood up for anyone aside from that poor bastard Isaac and Jackson let him have that because they were friends. Now, Scott changed and Jackson won’t turn a blind eye to it this time.

Yanking his cell phone out from his pocket, he dialed quickly, shooting out a group text.

“This isn’t over.”   


	14. chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “She told me she was heading into town to pick up your suit that was at the dry cleaners.” Laura continued, ignoring his statment. “Now Der-bear. Why would she go do that after you told us that you wouldn’t be caught dead going to that, and I’m using your words, ‘hell hole of teenage tv drama they call a prom’ which really Derek? You are passing English right? Would it kill you to be more dramatic with your words?”
> 
> “I am trying to finish my project for science so I can get that damn A and finally send off my college letters so I can get out of this shit hole of a town and finally get my pain of an ass sister out from my hair. How’s that for detail?”

It’s been an hour and Stiles was not enjoying himself anymore. Sure, at first it was shocking and maybe just a little exciting to finally have someone willing to help him with his ‘prom’ problem.. Sure it was for selfish reasons but it was help either way and Lydia, oddly enough, was being very nice in her own way. Every outfit he slipped on and stepped out, she either dismissed without an explanation but a simply, ‘ just trust me.’ Other times when he came out, she pressed her lips, touching her fingers to her chin and walked along him as he stood in the middle of the vanity mirrors, letting him try to see what she was seeing. Never worked. She would touch his arms and brush his sleeves down or brush her palms along his shoulder blades to smooth his jacket or tug his vest (if he wore one) from one side to another before sighing out, “No. This won’t do. We need to knock him and everyone else at school off their feet, not just give them a one over. Go change.”

Now it has been an hour and she dismissed yet another outfit and he was at his wits end. He was tired and getting bored trying one thing after another. “It’s hopeless!” He called out as he tugged on yet another dress shirt, frowning at the color. Pink really? Lydia yelled at him over a blood red shirt and a peach, there was no way she would approve a ‘pink’.

“Nothing is hopeless. Just annoying, are you ready yet? It’s been ten minutes.”

“No it hasn’t.” He huffed, buttoning his slacks, swinging the door open to step out with dread, throwing his arms out unhappily, the matching vest to his slacks waving in hand just to let it fall back to his side. “I look stupid.” He muttered. Lydia tilted her head at him before flickering her hand, “Put the vest on.” Stiles pressed his lips before marching over to the mirrors, shoving his arms into the vest, pulling it on more violently then needed. “Can we just accept I will never look right in these? I might as well tell Derek I’m not going.”

Lydia didn’t speak to him, just stared. A brush of his arm, touch to the shoulders, letting her eye trace along his form. Her nails snatched his wrist and she turned him around making him stiffen. Her fingers quickly button his vest, her voice barking out clearly, “ I need a gray belt!” Stiles looked around and noticed the sales assistance that had been running the clothes Lydia claimed to be unacceptable, rush over with a basic sleek belt with a sliver buckle. She took it from their hands and gave it over to him, nodding her head, “ Put this on.”

Stiles took it slowly before following her order, slipping the belt into the loops of his slacks, tightening it closed before lowering his arms again, looking back to her with arms spread to the sides. “..Better?”

Lydia took a step back, crossing her arms over her stomach. With one last look, she gave a small smile before whispering, “This is the one.”

Stiles jaw dropped a little, “B-But it’s pink!”

“Blush.” Lydia corrected. “But look for yourself; it’s very becoming of you.”

Stiles scrunched his face in disbelief, turning himself back to the mirror and letting his eyes actually ‘look’ at his attire.

“Woah…”

Before him, the mirror reflected a different picture. The ‘blush’ shirt didn’t really look that bad against his skin. Sure he was a bit pale but it didn’t wash it out. The vest and slacks were a very light charcoal gray, blending to the blush perfectly, letting the colors stand out. The vest was a bit small and snug, the black buttons pulling a little across his chest but not enough for people to notice, the tightness just made him look more define. “.. I look..”

 He looked normal. The dress slacks hugged his hips and thighs, flaring out a little at his ankles. He looked like an adult, almost professional. A small smile touched his face, his hands touching the vest, brushing along the rough fabrics.

“Different.” Lydia offered. When he looked up, his eyes meeting her own in the mirror, she gave him another small smile and nod. “That’s the outfit. If this doesn’t knock Derek off his feet then the man is not human. Now take it off, we don’t have a lot of time to get everything done.”

“I thought I just needed the outfit.” Stiles began to remove the vest, making his way back to his dressing room. “To start off.” Lydia replied, “But we need to get to the salon before it closes to get you a tan and get your hair styled.” Stiles gasped at her as she began to type in her phone, “T-Tan?! I can’t get a tan, I’ll turn red and peel!” Lydia just scoffed at him, “Tanning beds are so overrated. You’re getting a spray tan, only a little, and enough to make that outfit pop. Then your hair.” She got close to him, enough that he could smell her perfume, soft and sweet leaving a warm spice in his nose. Her free hand touched his hair that curled a little on his forehead, “I’m glad you let your hair grow out a little, the buzz cut would have ruined all of this.”

Stiles began to shake his head but she only pushed him back into the room, her voice cutting his protest off. “Now get change. We’re wasting time!”

 

\--------

 

“I just talked to mom and you know what she said?”

“You should leave me alone?”

Laura, Dereks older sister just laughed at his comment before walking fully into his room, taking a seat on his neatly made bed, ruining his work in mere seconds. She picked at the sheets, ignoring his cold glare. He sat at his desk beside her, homework spread out along the surface, book in hand. “I’m trying to study.”

“She told me she was heading into town to pick up your suit that was at the dry cleaners.” Laura continued, ignoring his statment. “Now Der-bear. Why would she go do that after you told us that you wouldn’t be caught dead going to that, and I’m using your words, ‘hell hole of teenage tv drama they call a prom’ which really Derek? You are passing English right? Would it kill you to be more dramatic with your words?”

“I am trying to finish my project for science so I can get that damn A and finally send off my college letters so I can get out of this shit hole of a town and finally get my pain of an ass sister out from my hair. How’s that for detail?”

Laura just shrugged, “I’ve heard better.”

Derek closed his book with a snap, tossing it onto his desk. “Just say what you want and get out.”

She pouted at him then, her face set in the familiar family expression. It was kind of scary how much they looked alike, their matching eyes, cheek bones and jawline, thou Laura was more feminine, giving her a more luring look that men, and boys alike, trail after you like a love sick puppy dog. Derek got the short end, his glares and rough features caused people to stay away from him. Thou he didn’t mind. Just meant he didn’t have to deal with people, their idiotic reasons and lives.

“Is it True?” Laura finally spoke, “You’re taking the sheriff’s son?”

Derek looked away from her sharp gaze, letting his own stare out his window, watching the trees that surrounded their house sway lightly in the breeze. “Yes.”

“Since when did you start liking boys?”

“Does it matter?”

“Not really, mom is already having a field day that you’re ‘going on a date’. Be ready for flashing lights and cooing tomorrow. Mom is ready to go all out for this.”

Silence came then, leaving them at the awkward moment before Laura let out a deep sigh. “But I’m glad.” Derek rose a brow at her and his sister just shrugged, rolling her fingers into her thick hair, brushing it back over her shoulders. “I think this will be good for you.”

“What’s that suppose to mean?”

Laura pressed her lips a little before finally let it all out. “Derek, the family has been worried over you.”

“Stop.”  He knew where this was going.

“No, Derek you need to hear this. We’re worried about you, ever since Paige-“

“I said stop!” Derek barked, his fingers curling into his arm rests of his chair, his heart racing at the sudden urge to leave, he didn’t want to be here, to talk about it. A sudden movement caused him to jerk, seeing his sister suddenly at his side, holding his forearm in a tight grip that her nails were pinching his skin. He didn’t even notice he stood up.

“Look, I know mom won’t push it. Everyone might let it go, might just ignore it but Derek I can’t. Dad won’t ask why you suddenly gave up the violin, why you threw away a great future playing something you are good at but I will cause and you HAVE to stop sulking in it!”

“You don’t understand!” Derek hissed, teeth clenched, his jaw tight, his eyes began to burn but he refused to let his emotions get the better of him, refuse to let his sister and her words break down the wall he tried so hard to put up.

“Yes I do!” She pulled him towards her and his body stiffen in await for a strike, for her to push him, to hit him, to yell at him but what he got wasn’t at all what he expected. Her arms wrapped around his neck and pulled him down, burying his face into her shoulder, her fingers curling into the back of his head to keep him in place. “I do.” She whispered into his ear. “I know what really happened and why you put it down but Der-bear.” She sighed gently, her fingers giving him a squeeze, “I just want you to be okay, I don’t want you to give up something just because someone did a shitty thing to you.”

Derek couldn’t say anything, all his words were gone. He wanted to pull away, he wanted to tell her to leave him alone, to leave his room and forget about everything but deep down. Derek knew she was the only one to understand. She was there the night he put the violin down, the night he felt his heart get ripped out from his chest and buried before his eyes.

The night Paige left…

Closing his eyes slowly, his arms began to lift and wrap themselves around her waist, hugging her lightly as she kept talking, kept whispering into his ear.

“I’m here.” She kept saying, “I’m here and I’ll always be here to help you. Don’t let this one event stop you.” He nodded into her shoulder lightly. They stayed like that, holding one another, breathing in one another’s scents before Derek finally felt her begin to pull away. Laura looked up to him, her hands cupping his face softly, and thumbs brushing at his cheek bones lightly. “But back to the matter at hand, Stiles?”

Derek slumped his shoulder with a groan but she laughed, patting his cheek softly, “No Derek, I’m glad. That boy needs something uplifting; Cora has told me a bit about him. An odd ball huh?”

“Yeah.” He whispered.

With a nod, Laura patted his shoulder lightly, “Well, if you’re taking Stiles to prom, we need to start working on you NOW.”

“For what?”

Laura rolled her eyes at him, “He has you for company, we need to go over your conversation topics, mannerisms and dance moves.”

Derek backed up at that, “ Dance moves?”

Laura put her hands on her hips with a smirk, “We are going to give that boy the night of his life and you, sweet brother of mine, are going to sweep him off his feet now move it!” She clapped her hands, pushing him towards the door, “Mom pulled out the old record player, we have a lot to do before tomorrow night!”

Derek’s jaw dropped, his feet pushing at the floor to keep himself from leaving the room. “I don’t dance!”

“Tomorrow night you will!” With another shove, he was out of his room and beginning dragged down the hallway, “You are going to open doors, pull out chairs, tell him how handsome he looks and dip him on ever slow dance til he is nothing but a puddle of goo!”

“I’m not ‘dipping’ him!”

Laura snapped around and glared up at him, her fingers squeezing his wrist tightly causing his lips to thin out.

“Derek Hale.” She hissed, “You will be the perfect gentlemen to this boy or I will make the remaining days before you ship out for college a living hell.”

Derek glared back at her. She let him go then to walk into the living room, yelling for their little brother to grab the old records from their parent’s room so they can get started. He already could hear the snickering of his siblings and can already see the photos that were going to be taken and placed on their facebooks or whatever sites they have been glued too. He wouldn’t be able to get out of this, once Laura had her mind set on something, it was going to get done.

“I regret my choices that lead to this."


	15. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just think.” She whispered, fingers curling into the back of his head lightly. “Stiles up on stage, all eyes on him. He will think he is special and when he does. You will pull the cord.” Jackson went still when he felt the heavy handle of the blade in his palm. “You will cover him in red.” Her fingers curled over his own, making him grip the handle tightly. “You will stain him and remind everyone who he really is.” Letting his hand go, she began to back away with one last kiss to his parted lips. “And they will laugh and you. Oh baby, you will be the victor."

“Why are we here?”

Jackson raise a brow at the building before him. Against the passenger door of his car, golden locks framed a perfect  of a face, an uplift smirk of red lips and narrowed beaming eyes joined his gaze. Kate removed herself from the spot, heels crunching on the gravel ground, “You said you needed help with your little ‘problem.’ The answer is in here.”

“What ‘is’ this place?” Another voice asked, Kate didn’t even bother to learn the boys name; one of many jock men Jackson surrounds himself with daily. Pulling out a card from her back pocket, she slipped it against the keypad pad lingered to the side of the door. “What does it look like?”

“It smells like a farm.” Jackson muttered, his nose scrunching up in the air. Kate chuckled, entering her code to let the door unlock and swing open. “It’s an animal shelter of my very own.”

“You have an animal shelter?”

“My father likes to travel and collect exotic wild life from all over the world. We have a few places like these.” Pushing the door open, she walked in followed close by Jackson and his friend. Jackson pulled his coat a little tighter against himself as they traveled down the hallway, his eyes scanning the bare walls. “Isn’t it illegal to have wild life in this state or something?” Jackson rolled his eyes at his friends’ question, glancing back at him. “David, shut up and carry the bag.”

“Dude this thing is heavy, what the hell is in it?”

“Things we need for this prank Jackson is so keen on pulling.”

“Someone needs to put Scott in his place.” Jackson snapped, “He was nothing until I found him and now he’s acting all fucking high and mighty. He kicked me off my field, ME.” Kate chuckled at his childish rant, letting him blister and bubble for a few. Normally she wouldn’t give this a time of day, sure Jackson was rich and had a torso she could spend hours marking up but she had her own money, she could get any guy. She was going to drop him and find a better model, perhaps someone older this time or even younger? The thrill of swaying a young mind and bending them to her very will, shatter his spirit until he is nothing but a weak puppy chasing her ankles for a small speck of attention.

And the burning satisfactions of watching their eyes reflect the betrayal when she finally shatters them.

But everything changed the day Jackson told her the news. Derek Hale was openly taking Stiles to prom and was spending an awful a lot of time with the said boy. Derek Hale, the wolf man himself, nothing could break that emotionless face or get under that thick skin. Kate had tried before, running into at his favorite places, flirting every chance she could grasp and she even tried to touch him, men always melted under her fingertips but Derek, oh no. He glared at her so hotly she shivered with a need that burned so hot she didn’t understand. He spoke to her only once with his deep growl of a voice, his fingers squeezing her wrists so tightly when she brushed them across his thigh.

They were sitting on one of the many empty benches at the high school, Derek was eating his lunch, or that’s what Kate figured with the sandwich at his side. He looked at her with so much rage Kate wanted to push him down and climb on top, take this man and rip him apart one fiber at a time, watch his face morph into pain and finally see the bone inside.

She will make him regret refusing her.

If Derek was as wrapped around this boy as Jackson says, she will finally see that face, so emotionless and cold finally twist into outrage and dismay, oh it will be such a sight.

“Oh woah, Jackson look!”

Jacksons jaw dropped at the display window Kate had leaded them to.  

“Wolves?”

There was a pack of them, all curled and sleeping alongside one another. The room itself was huge, with nothing but grass and rocks for them to climb and even a cave to hide in. Over head was more glass windows, letting the night sky peer down upon them. Pressing his hands against the glass, his eyes searched. “You have wolves?”

“Beautiful aren’t they?” Kate whispered, arms crossing over her stomach.

 “A whole pack.”

“I know this have to be illage.” David muttered.

“Not if you have money. My father and I donate a good amount to the city to make sure they keep their nose out of our affairs. So this place,” She waved her hand around, “Is mine to do with what I wanted. Wolves are one of my favorite animals, they’re strong,” her sly glance peered into the glass happily, “ and cunning. They protect each other and keep any danger away.” She pissed her lips in a smile, “To control them is a high all on its own.”

 Pushing herself away, she took the bag from Davids grip, “Did you get that friend of yours to get the key to the gym?”

Jackson finally took his gaze away from the display, digging into his pocket quickly to pull out a key ring. “Yup, we should be able to get in tonight with no problem. Everything else can wait tomorrow morning.”

“Danny say’s he’s out.” David added in making Jackson turn towards him in attention. “What do you mean his out?!”

“He just said he’s out! I’m pretty sure Danny thinks you’re taking this too far.” At Jackson glare, David only rose his hands in surrounded, “I don’t believe me I am looking forward to this as much as the next person, its just what Danny said.”

“Fucking how can we switch the ballets then?!” Jackson hissed, “Danny was suppose to do that, everyone freaking trusts him!”

“Guess we have to find someone else.” Kate hummed softly, settling the bag onto a bare table that laid just to the side of them, russling around the fabric before locating the zipper, tugging the bag open.

“I’ll deal with that tomorrow but babe, What are wolves going to help us with Stiles?”

Kate chuckled softly as she withdrew an item from the bag, lifting it up to Jackson’s eyes. Within her grip laid a machete, metal so sleek and sharp Jackson found himself backing up. “What the hell are you doing with that?!”  

Kate swung it lightly in her hand, making her way closer to him. “Baby, I’m going to give that bitch what he deserves.” She cooed, “What better way than with an actual ‘bitch’ itself? Pigs blood is just so 70’s.”

“Y-you’re not thinking of killing one of them are you?!” David objected, “You can’t possibly think yo-“

“Ad why not?!”

David slammed his back against the glass, eyes wide in fright. The edge of the blade was an inch from his throat, beads of sweat building along his face.

“I can do whatever I want with them,” Kate panted before letting her eyes snap to Jackson. He was backing away from them, hands raised in the air. “You’re going to get the bucket from the janitor closet and we are going to go and get ourselves a wolf and drain it dry. Then we’ll break into the stupid Prom, set everything up and walk away. No harm, no foul.” She swung the blade to Jackson causing him to jump, “You get your revenge.” She swung it back to David making him whimper, “You get to see the freckled boy get whats coming to him and I.” She smirked to herself, “I finally get my satisfaction.”

They both didn’t move, even speak and Kate took that as an agreement. Removing the blade from David throat, he approached Jackson, watching him shiver and glance away. Oh no, she couldn’t have that. Reaching up, she cupped his face in her palm of her free hand, brushing their lips together softly, “I’m sorry baby.” She breathed, “I want everything to go perfectly. I just want you happy; don’t you want to be happy?” Jackson closed his eyes tightly for a moment before looking back to her, his fingers squeezing in his palm for a moment. “Just think.” She whispered, fingers curling into the back of his head lightly. “Stiles up on stage, all eyes on him. He will think he is special and when he does. You will pull the cord.” Jackson went still when he felt the heavy handle of the blade in his palm. “You will cover him in red.” Her fingers curled over his own, making him grip the handle tightly. “You will stain him and remind everyone who he really is.” Letting his hand go, she began to back away with one last kiss to his parted lips. “And they will laugh and you. Oh baby, you will be the victor. Now, tell me.”

Jackson watched her back away, her fingers reaching out to tap the glass, tapping out a rhythm, watching the wolves begin to stir.

_“Who’s afraid of the big bad wolf?”_

Jackson gripped the item in his hand in silence for a brief moment before a smile that would match Kate’s own, spread across his face.

“Let’s do this.”

 

**\--------------------------------**

 

Stiles stared at his phone with a small smile and flushed cheeks. It was 6:50 in the morning and a text message was displayed on his phone. Bold letters flashing at him making his heart race in excitement with a bit of nerves.

**Be there in ten.**

Derek was going to pick him up and take him to school. Putting the phone back down on his desk for the fourth time, he rushed to his bathroom again, staring into the mirror, teeth worrying his lip. Fingers brushing at his cheek, thinking it would smear the excess dye off which Lydia told him was not going to happen. She assured him it was fine but still had his doubts, had his fear people would laugh at him again. He looked so different.

He had a healthy glow to his skin, light tan but not enough to make a ‘big’ difference, at least not to everyone else’s eyes. His hair was styled and trimmed up a little more, Lydia refused to let him get his buzz cut he normally always had.

 ‘Time for something new.’

 Stiles had to admit, he kind of liked it, not so much the gel he had to put in just to keep the longer strands of his bangs to stay up out of his face but he enjoyed the result. He looked like everyone else; he even looked a little older. Lydia had taken the gel when his hair was done and messed his hair, giving him the ‘bed head’ look and told him to do that style often. Said he ‘pulled it off’, he wondered would Derek agree?

Walking back into his room, he checked his phone one more time. Still Derek’s message flashed at him and he couldn’t help the stuttering breath. What if Derek didn’t like his look? What if he took one look and told him to walk to school? Shaking his head quickly, he tossed his phone into his backpack. No, don’t start thinking like that. Sitting down on his bed, he began to pull on his shoes, he needed to get down stairs. Double checking everything in his bag, he took a deep breath and stood back up, hands brushing at his jeans. He dug to find a pair that wasn’t baggy or old, they were a darker denim, a bit type in the hips since he had gotten them earlier in the year. Tugging one of his blue plaid shirts over his plain white t-shirt, he mental told himself he looked fine for the tenth time and made his way out of the room.

Stopping at the bottom of the stairs, he looked over to the living room.

There he found his dad sitting on the couch, one hand pressed tightly against the right side of his ribs. After their fight and dinner Stiles worked so hard on making. He took his father to the doctors to be told he had a few bruised ribs, nothing major. John told them he had fallen onto his coffee table due to tripping and they believed it easily enough. A bottle of pain killers and chest wraps, they were sent home and John was told to take it easy.

John didn’t utter a word towards Stiles. He didn’t even look at him. When they arrived home, John limped straight to the couch and sat down, his eyes staring silently at the black screen of their tv. There he remained and simply put, that’s how Stiles found him.

“I’m going to school dad.” Stiles spoke out, John didn’t move, didn’t acknowledge his son spoke but Stiles didn’t mind. Cause soon enough, a roar of an engine came to life outside the door and a ‘ping’ of his phone gave him enough spring in his step to start for the door.

“Don’t go crazy today, I’ll be back after school and I’ll make dinner before I head to prom.” Pulling the front door open, Stiles turned to look at John, whom still kept looking before him, one more time before narrowing his eyes. The coffee table slide across the carpet towards John causing the man to jump back in his seat with a hiss of pain. John flinched again when the tv suddenly turned on, the volume ending the silence between them.

 “Put your feet up.”

With that, Stiles stepped out and shut the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Sorry it's been a little bit since I've updated. Work's been a little crazy Plus I'm gettign things ready for the 'Teen Wold' convention in burbank. Oh yeah, I'm getting excited!!!


	16. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “But if you want. I’ll take you.” 
> 
> Stiles nodded quickly, cheeks flushed with delight. Biting his lower lip lightly, Stiles bowed his head and pressed his temple into Derek’s shoulder, waiting to see if Derek would push him away or let him settle. Derek just sighed out softly, resting his cheek lightly against Stiles hair and that, that was all Stiles needed to let his weight go and settle more fully along Derek’s side. 
> 
> This was nice.

Derek…. Had no idea how he got here. 

It was about the afternoon, the sun was high and the breeze was nice and cool against his skin. In front of him the preserve laid, its mass green fields and lushness trees, branches reaching far and wide, covering every inch of land before the winter rolled around. This was his favorite spot, an open clearing just overlooking the scene upon a high cliff, a gathering of stones making the best chairs and sometimes a nice place to sun bath when he laid out. He liked to come here to think, to get lost in nothing, in the silence but now…

Now he had someone next to him. 

Glancing over, he watched in confusion as Stiles gawked. Hands fumbling along the rough surface of stone as he tried to take the scene in. How? How did they end up here?  
He remembered driving to Stiles house, Derek frowned at his CD player since Laura took it upon herself to ‘update’ his music choice by blaring, ‘WRECKING BALL’ out his speakers. If he had bad taste in music, so be it if THAT was good. He pulled into Stiles drive way, cursing the CD in hand when the passenger door open and Stiles came in or who he thought WAS Stiles because the kid next to him wasn’t the geeky teen from the day before. No, the teen looking at him shyly, red blotching his cheeks and throat was no way shape or form the kid he was picking up. His hair was styled, messy as if he rolled right out of bed and put his clothes right on, a look Derek found himself admiring and wondering if he did wake up like that. His clothes, they were… still dorky with his graphic tee’s but if Derek didn’t know any better, and he fucking did, Stiles clothes had gotten..Tighter.. 

Thick brows shot up, Stiles had a body… Not a very muscular body like his own no but he was lean, flat chest and stomach to lean hips that Derek was sure, if he placed his hands there would cup them perfectly. The denim, holy crap, they hugged his thighs like a second skin, were his legs ALWAYS that long?   
Derek remembered Stiles moving around, his hopeful face turning worried before bitterness clouded his eyes. Apparently Stiles took Derek stun silence as a bad thing over his new appearance and muttered out, ‘ I knew it’ before grabbing his belongings. Derek jerked back into motion, hand snatching Stiles wrist before the he could get out, yanking him back. Stiles flinched, his free arm flying up to block his face, his body already cowering down and that… that Made Derek jump back so hard he smacked his elbow against his window, shocking his funny bone, numbing his whole arm. 

Stiles thought Derek was going to hit him… 

The mere idea made his stomach turn. He never wanted Stiles to act like this, not around him. Fuck, Stiles should never act like this around anyone. Carefully, Slowly, he reached back out, fingers brushing along Stiles forearm causing him to flinched back a little, his lips parting in a whimper but Derek kept going, tracing gently till his fingers hovered over Stiles face. With a deep breath, his fingers reached and raked into his hair, shocked the gel he used was one of those that didn’t clump together and glue the strains. They were soft and thick, letting nails scratching lightly against the teens sculp. Stiles was still, his breath catching at the touch but after a few minutes, his arm began to lower, brown eyes met Green and Derek moved his hand to cup the back of his head, bringing him closer. Stiles breath was coming in pants, his eyes were wide, but Derek just kept staring, not letting his eyes drop until their foreheads touched. 

And there he stayed. 

Fingers pressing into the back of Stiles neck, nose gently brushing against one another with every other breath. Derek wanted to apologize… He should but he just couldn’t bring himself to say the words and break this moment. Yet, it appeared he didn’t have to, for after a few deep breaths, Stiles began to relax, his body inching closer and soon, a shaky hand reached out and touched his elbow. With no words, Stiles still understood what Derek was trying to say.

Stiles took another deep breath and nodded to Derek’s unspoken question, his lips lifting enough to let Derek pulled away but keep his hand in place, he needed to keep touching Stiles, a need to reassure. Stiles bowed his head and pressed his cheek into Derek’s wrist, enjoying the warmth, the feel. 

“You look.” Derek began. Stiles lifted his eyes to meet his own, teeth tugging on his bottom lip. 

“..Different..’

“..Is..Different bad?”

“..No.”

Stiles gave him a wide smile that made his whole face light up and Derek was in awe of it. Removing his hand, Derek cleared his throat and grabbed the stirring wheel once again, nodding his head to the windshield. “Shut the door.” Stiles blinked before quickly turning in his seat to do so. With that, the car roared to life.

That’s where he blanked out. 

One second Stiles was fidgeting in his seat with his bag, the next he was looking back over at him and whispering, “…You think everyone else will notice?”

His foot slammed on the break causing Stiles to yelp out, hands flying out to catch himself on the dash board before his face did. 

What ‘would’ people say at school? Would they make fun of him again or worse… Will they notice his change and begin to approach him? No, that’s a good thing, this could be his chance to be ‘normal’ and make friends and maybe get a girl or guy who will see him for who he truly was and…

Pulling his car back into reverse, he spun back around. 

“Derek what are you doing?!”

“We’re not going to school today.”

“What?! Derek my dad will kill me if we skip!”

“I’ll explain.”

“But won’t you get in trouble?! What about prom tonight?”

Derek put his car back into gear and sped off, Stiles turning around to glance out the back window in dread as Derek took him furtherer away.

“Don’t worry about it.”

Derek didn’t want them to see Stiles like this.

Not yet.

So there they were… Parked at his favorite hiding spot on his family’s preserve, looking at nature and all its glory. 

Slumping, he fell back onto the rock, covering his hands with his hands. 

What has he done?

“H-Hey…”

Lowering his arm back down, he glanced back over, watching Stiles hug his knees to his won chest tightly, chin resting on them. Picking at the denim that covered his ankles,   
Stiles took a deep breath and whispered, “..Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For this.” Stiles looked back out at the scenery, “For bringing me here.. It’s really nice.”

“My family owns it.”

“I know.”

Derek rose a brow and Stiles just smiled shyly, burying his face back into his knees. “Everyone knows Derek… You guys are like.. mega rich.” Derek pushed himself up onto his elbows which made Stiles fling his arms in a wave, “Not that I’m saying you guys are throwing your money around to show off, I’m not! Your family does a lot of great things like this, I heard they were going to cut all this down and turn it into a mall.”

“Highway.”

Stiles lifted his head a little as Derek sat up completely, brushing the dirt from his hands. “They wanted to build a highway, it would only have torn down half the area, they wanted to leave something for the drivers to look at, a since of nature while traveling. My parents didn’t agree, the making of that road and destruction of the land would ruin the soil and the wolves that come to our care. So they fought it.”

“I can’t believe your family has wolves.”

Derek let out a chuckle, “We don’t ‘have’ wolves Stiles. We have a shelter to keep them safe and let them live how they should.” Stiles bowed his head a little before he began to scoot closer, their shoulders brushing. “… You think.. I could see it some time?”

Derek tilted his head back, closing his eyes to the sun. “It’s open to the public. Sometimes the middle school comes by on field trips.” He was met with silence before a deep sigh left Stiles. “..Oh..” With a slow smirk, Derek reached out slowly, tugging the back of Stiles pants making the younger teen jolt. 

“But if you want. I’ll take you.” 

Stiles nodded quickly, cheeks flushed with delight. Biting his lower lip lightly, Stiles bowed his head and pressed his temple into Derek’s shoulder, waiting to see if Derek would push him away or let him settle. Derek just sighed out softly, resting his cheek lightly against Stiles hair and that, that was all Stiles needed to let his weight go and settle more fully along Derek’s side. 

This was nice. 

\----------------------------------

‘Mr. Stilinski, I am calling to let you know your son, Stiles Stilinski, did not show up for his first two periods of class. If there is an excuse, please have your son bring in an excuse slip in which we will field it away. Have a nice day.’

John scared at his answering machine silently, the red flashing light blinking at him in the shadows. Gripping his side, he moved tenderly towards the kitchen, his free hand gripping the wall for support. His rib cage still pulsed in hot soreness but he ignored it, his eyes focused on one thing and one thing alone. 

Pulling open one of the cabinet doors open, he glanced inside, narrowed eyes burning. Reaching in, fingers tracing along the cold surface of his goal, pulling out a 9 mm. John brought it closer, both hands handling, searching for the box of bullets he normally kept alongside it. 

One could never be too careful in one’s home. 

Steady fingers slipped one bullet after another into its chamber. Behind the Tupperware lids, hidden in the corner behind the bag of sunflower seeds. John kept his spare gun hidden. Stiles knew of the gun, knew not to go near or touch the object, it was there for their safety. To protect them. 

Snapping the chamber shut, John clicked the safety switch off, placing it down onto the counter. “I’m sorry sweet heart.” He whispered out softly, eyes flickering over to the closet door, the only place where his wife’s face still lingered. The place her son should be. 

“Soon.”


	17. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reaching out, he picked at the bark of the tree he stood before, “I told her… I created that piece for her… it was what I heard when I was around her and she just… Told me to leave.”

“So… what are you going to do after graduation?”

Derek looked back over his shoulder at Stiles who at the moment was hopping over one of the tree roots that tangled itself out from the ground. The teenager was looking upon the trail in awe and relaxation, twitchy hands reaching out and tracing every other tree to its bark, stilling at every rustle sound in hopes to see an animal come crawling out, pushing closer to Derek when howls from the distances caused him to gasp in surprise and grab Dereks arm in delight. He wanted Stiles to hold onto him, to walk with him side by side but every time Stiles noticed where his grip was, he suddenly let go, face all flustered and rush away, shoulders hunched. Was he acting shy? Or did he not like showing those kind of affections?

Shoving his hands deeper into his jacket pocket, Derek sighed. “ I dunno.”

Stiles stumbled a little to reach Derek’s side, hands brushing at his thighs to wipe away the bark. “I always thought.. you know.. you were going to go into music.”

Derek came to a slow stop to that, brows narrowed. Stiles took a few steps, fingers curling and uncurling. “.. Why… did you stop?”

Derek pressed his lips at the question, the weight of his decision pressed down hard, making him bite out. “It’s none of your business.” Stiles flinched at his words, his body stepping away when Derek pushed forward, rushing back down the trail. He didn’t want to talk about it, he didn’t want to think about it. He wanted to go back home and just forget, forget the reason why he left it all behind, forget the idea of ever being on stage in the spot light and play. To draw people in and let them all hear the music he dreamed about, the notes that always play, that still continue to sing in his mind.

To his steps, Stiles rushed to keep behind him, fingers tugging on his jacket helplessly. “You don’t have to tell me.” The words were always repeated, from his parents, by his sisters. By everyone around him, why won’t they just leave him alone about it?!

“I just… I really liked your music.”

That caused him to stop.

Stiles rushed into his back with a yelp before pushing himself away, giving them an arm distance gap. The teen stuttered a little before waving his hands around. “I-I mean.. It was really good, I just. I wanted to tell you b-before but I was scared cause you’re like, big and stuff so I didn’t but now I figured you know, we’re friends right? I can tell you, please don’t hate me.”

Derek clenched his fist tightly; he hadn’t played any of his music for two years now. “…When?”

Stiles blinked at him for a moment before his teeth tugged his bottom lip, causing that pale skin to blush in pink. “… I was a freshmen, I didn’t want to take the bus… Jackson and his friends they were… anyway, I started to wonder the school and I heard you.” Stiles ducked his head then smiling a little, “You were in the senior lunch area. You were playing something I never heard of before and you looked so…beautiful.” Stiles gave a soft chuckle, “ I listened in til your sister came and got you but Derek, that song you played, it was.. really good and I just wanted the chance to tell you that..”

“I ruined it.”

Stiles’s head shot up at those soft words, staring with wide eyes. Derek was shocked himself, he wanted to tell Stiles to stop it, to yell at him that he didn’t understand, that song was nothing but what came out was the bitter truth. The answer to why he let that dream go and why he felt stuck. He wasn’t going to tell anyone but Stiles, with his confession and warm smile, Derek didn’t want him thanking him for that song.

Never for that song.

“Paige..” Why was Derek confessing this? Why did he want to spill the truth to this boy? “She was having trouble. She had an interview with one of her colleagues and they requested her to create her own piece.” He still could see her hunched over her desk in class, paper torn and crumbled all around her. He could see her frustrated face, ink stains all over her hands and blouse with every note she wrote and then scratched away. “Every song she wrote, she kept throwing it away. Time was running out, that interview was the only one til her senior year and Paige wanted to get into that school so bad..”

“Derek..?”

Derek turned away from Stiles then, keeping his eyes down on the ground. “… I wanted to help her. So I wrote a piece and I…” Derek scoffed, “ I gave it to her. She looked so offended at me, told me she didn’t need my help that she could do it herself so I left, threw the music away and went home.” Derek didn’t tell Stiles how broken he felt, not only was that song created for her, it was about her too. It was the music he listened to whenever he looked into her eyes, it was the notes that made his heart flutter when she laughed at his jokes. It was the vibration of the strings when she leaned forward and kissed him, her lips tingling his own. That was his love for her, those notes.

“She didn’t get the scholarship.” Derek whispered, “I went to her house when she didn’t show up for school and she told me. She was so upset, I told her there was always senior year and I could help her write a new piece that could get her the spot but she..” Derek let out a hollow laugh, “She looked at me with such disbelief and told me, ‘How can you help me when your music didn’t even pass the bar?’”

“She used your music didn’t she?”

“She took my music out of the trash and played it as her own piece and they still refused her. She blamed my music for her chances before blaming herself for cheating. She shouldn’t have stolen my music, she should have made her own and she told me she didn’t want my help.” Reaching out, he picked at the bark of the tree he stood before, “I told her… I created that piece for her… it was what I heard when I was around her and she just… Told me to leave.”

He let his arm drop back to his side. “She broke up with me a couple of days later then moved at the end of the month. I haven’t seen her since then.”

“Is that why?”

Derek didn’t want to turn around to look at him, he didn’t want to see the betrayal he put on Paige reflect in those eyes. He didn’t want Stiles to look at him in pity like she did that night he confessed.

“You stopped playing because you thought your music wasn’t good enough?”

“It isn’t!” Derek hissed, “If my music was any good Paige would have gotten that scholarship!”

“You were a sophomore!”

“If my music didn’t met the bar then how will it met it now?!” Derek spun back around to Stiles, shocked for a moment on seeing how close he was. Stiles didn’t flinch back like before, no this teen stood his ground, his hands reached out and grabbed Dereks forearms, giving them a squeeze. “Because life sucks okay?!” Derek’s brow shot up but Stiles only pressed on, “Life is not an open door Derek! You can’t give up when you knock and no one answers! You have to keep trying! You have to push harder, find a different way in!” Reaching up Stiles curled his fingers into Dereks hair, yanking him forward to press their foreheads together. “People will always tell you no but you can’t let that stop you!” Stiles glared into his eyes, nails digging lightly into Dereks scalp. “You just have to ignore them and keep going until you get that yes. Don’t let this mistake stop you from being something great.” Derek closed his eyes tightly then, tears that he didn’t even notice gathered began to fall down along his cheeks. \

“Don’t let the fear of rejection stop you..”

Like a cold wave, Dereks body hunched over. Tightly closed eyes, Derek let out a broken sound before his arm wrapped themselves around Stiles waist, pulling the teen closer. Derek let his tears fall, letting Stiles guide his head to his shoulder where he buried himself, breathing in deep to the smells that clung to the teenager. He let the emotions he kept bury finally wash over him, let the hurt of Paige leaving him show, let the pain of reaction burn deep in his bones and the fear of trying sob out and Stiles.. Stiles held him that much more tighter, whispering his name softly into his ear until they both found themselves sitting on the ground, wrapped around one another, hidden in the forest of their own pain and protection.

Derek pulled Stiles closer and just breathed him in more.


	18. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Dad, You okay?"
> 
> “The school called.”

Closing the door quietly, Stiles slumped against the doorframe, listening to the roar of Derek’s engine as it drove away. His heart was beating wildly still, his face warm as his skin tingled with remembrance of that tight hold. In that forest, they bonded and Stiles wanted to run down the road yelling in joy, he bonded with someone, Derek opened up to him and for once, Stiles stood up and added his own two cents and it worked, he helped Derek and the older teen had held him so tightly as if he would fade away. Stiles would never fade; he wanted to stay by his side for as long as Derek let him.

Tapping the door lightly with his finger he chuckled. Derek dropped him off, touched his hand and gave a squeeze as he whispered about returning to pick him up for the dance. Stiles was still questionable with the whole skipping school that they might not be able to go but Derek just shrugged, slipped his sunglasses on and answered,

‘Then I’ll take you somewhere else. I don’t have to go to prom just to spend time with you.’

Chewing on his lower lip, Stiles rolled til his back pressed firmly on the wall swinging his arms up over his head. He wanted to dance, he wanted to celebrate! Cupping his hands together, he brought them down to cradle the back of his head, lips stretching into a wide grin. He only had a few hours to get ready and He needed to get showered. Approaching the stair case, he gripped the railing humming happily when a shadow appeared above him. Looking up, Stiles voice halted when his father lingered the top of the stair case, arms lying limp. They looked upon one another, Stiles frowning at his father blank stare.

“Dad, are you okay?”

His father didn’t speak, cold eyes staring him down. Stiles began to fidget, picking at the railing nervously. His father was acting weird and it was making Stiles uncomfortable. Normally when his father wanted to ignore him, he would leave the house or sit in front of the TV; turning the volume up to Stiles questions. There were times they would eat dinner and every time Stiles opened his mouth to stay something John would slam his fist down on the table, signaling Stiles to keep silent and sink deeper into his chair. This times, this time John kept eye contact…

Pressing his lip, Stiles climbed the stairs. “I’m going to take a shower.” He whispered, “Derek is going to pick me up in a couple of hours..”

John didn’t move expect for his eyes, slowly tracking Stiles climb. When Stiles reached the step directly below him, he looked up at John with a frown. “Dad, please move.”

“The school called.”

Johns voice was deep and hollow, sending a chill down Stiles spine. Looking away, Stiles hunched his shoulders in a shrug, “I’m sorry, things got complicated this morning.”

“It was that Hale kid.”

Stiles jerked to look at his father’s face, seeing his blank expression still there. “No dad, it wasn’t Derek. I skipped, I needed to!”

“You’ve covering him.”

“No I’m not!” Stiles pleaded, “Dad, I have straight A’s, I never missed a day I think the school can forgive me for just this one! I think I’m entitled to it after all the bullshi-.”

_CRACK_

Stiles head snapped to the side, a flare of pain scorching his cheek. Stiles body went still as the shock overcame him. A pain, a familiar pain began to throb and grow in his face causing his eyes to burn. Clenching his teeth, Stiles turned his head to look back up at his father, tears gathering in his narrowed eyes, red cheek pulsing with his racing heart. His father stood there before him, his arms back at his side as if he didn’t lift a finger and strike him.

Just like all those other times before.

“You’re not going anywhere.”

Stiles lips pulled back to bare his teeth, “Don’t.Touch.Me.”

His father finally moved, his brows pulling forward in a glare. “You’re not going to that dance.”

“I am.”

“You’re not seeing that Hale boy again.”

“Dad stop.”

“You’ll never go back to that school again.”

Stiles eyes went wide. What?

“What?”

His father took a few breaths answering. “We’re leaving this town.” He growled, “This place. It changed you, its corrupt you and now that Hale boy has ruined you.” Like a snap, Stiles let out a cry when Johns hands snatched his forearms, gripping tightly, nails sinking into his clothes to bruise the skin.

“Dad!”

“We’re going to leave this town.” John went on, giving his son a rough shake, “We’re going far away and we’re going to start over. We’re going to do this right this time, it’s what you mother would have wanted.”

“I’m not leaving!” Stiles struggled with his father grip, his hands shoving at his fathers chest. Even thou John had injuries, John didn’t buckle in pain or flinch when Stiles pressed again them, John just held on tighter, his eyes widening as his voice grew louder. “Yes you are!” He brought Stiles closer, letting his nose get a weft of the stale beer his father downed. John was drunk; this had to be the reason. It made Stiles push harder, his hands gripping Johns wrists, fingers tangling with fingers. “Dad stop it!”

“What do you think is going to happen tonight?” John hissed, yanking his son closer, causing the teen to lift up onto the tips of his toes to keep balance. “You think you’re going to walk in there and everyone is going to impressed?” He laughed in Stiles face, “You think they’ll forget who you are? A freak?”

“I’m not!” Stiles cried.

“They’re going to laugh at you!” John shouted, “They’re going to laugh at you and when you come home they’ll laugh at me! They’ll laugh at your mother and it’ll be ALL.YOU.FAULT!”

“STOP IT!”

Johns voice ripped out in a shout of pain when his body was struck. It was like going from 60mph to zero, his body struck a force that sent his body back, cracking into the hallway wall. His lungs were robbed of air from the impact leaving him to fall limp to the ground. Across from him Stiles was leaning against the railing heavily, face wet with tears and red with rage. Coughing John let out a groan as he rolled onto his back, feeling the sharp pains in his body come rushing back. The impact caused a hole in the wall, letting him see the wooden beams.

“Stay there.”

John gasped deeply through the haze of pain, watching with narrowed eyes as his son stumbled across the floor, “Just stay there.” Pressing against the opposite wall, Stiles kept his eyes lock on the floor, feeling his way along the wall to his room. His body was curled in on itself, palms pressing roughly into the wall. “Don’t speak to me… Don’t look at me.. Don’t say.A.Word.. until I’m gone.”

Reaching up, Stiles wiped at his face quickly, sniffing back his tears. He would not shed anymore for his man, no more.

“I won’t let you ruin this for me.”

Tilting his head up, Stiles spared his father once last glance, his rage and hurt over his fathers actions and words pushing down the guilt he had for the state his father was in. With a shaky breath, Stiles turned away and pushed himself, hands shaking as he reached for his bedroom door.

“They’ll laugh at you.”

Johns voice hissed out stilling Stiles hand over the knob.

“Mark my words boy. They.Will.Laugh.”

Closing his eyes tightly, Stiles gripped the knob tightly and shoved the door, escaping into his room to shut out his words, wanting the silence to deafen his fathers painful wheezing.

_‘Laugh at you…’_


	19. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "If I had half a mind I’d ground you and make you call that boy and tell him you are not going to prom.”
> 
> Derek snapped his gaze to his mother quickly, lips parting in shock, “Mom no look I’m sorry but you cant-“
> 
> “I most certainly can young man.”
> 
> “Mom please Stiles is looking forward to this!”
> 
> “You should have thought of that BEFORE you skipped.”

“Shower up and get the hell out of here expect you Juniors. I want to see your butts on that buss in an hour!”

Finstock left the locker room as the group began to chatter, sounds of clothing staring to be removed. A mixer of Senior and Jrs. wiping away the sweat from the latest detention drill, entering the showers or changing out of their soiled clothes.

Outside the locker rooms, Jackson waited, eyes narrowed behind his sunglasses. He needed to get in there but not while that McCall was still inside. He needed to talk to the seniors, needed to get one more piece connect before tonight. The main doors opened and Jackson quickly hide behind the lockers he stood beside, watching from the corner as Scott rushed out, shoving his backpack onto his shoulder taking off down the hall. ‘Wouldn’t want to miss your game.’ Jackson thought with a snarl. Removing his sunglasses, Jackson quickly entered the hallway and pushed the doors open.

He smirked to himself seeing some of the seniors were still getting changed. Raising his fist, he hit the lockers next to him, causing a hollow ‘bang’ to ring out. He hit it as he walked, letting it ring out long enough for the group to turn their attention towards Jackson, only then did he stop.

“I have a favor to ask of you guys.” He began, shoving his fists into his jacket pockets. “A big favor that I promise will benefit you.”

“Wait, Aren’t you the Jr. that caused this whole thing?”

“Shut up Greenberg.” Jackson snapped, causing the guy to sit back down. Another senior stepped in front of Greenberg, blue eyes narrowed. “Get out Whittemore.” He nodded his chin towards the door. “You caused enough problems for us.” Jackson scoffed at him, hands flying at his side, “Come on, You can’t be okay with this! That little freak is crashing your prom!”

Some shrugged while others looked at one another with a raised brow. Jackson pressed his lips, “This is supposed to be your guys night, fuck it was suppose to be MY night on the field but that little gay freak screwed it up. Is that what you want?” He approached the senior who spoke first, “Is that what you want in your year book? A picture of that dorks face enjoying ‘your’ night? Is that acceptable?” No one spoke out, some just watched him with questionable eyes, and Jackson could use that. “What if I can fix it?” He pushed, “I have something in the works and I just need your guys help.”

One by one, they looked at one another, eyes connecting, fingers moving, comminuting with no words. Finally one spoke out, knocking his knuckles against the bench he sat on. “What’s the favor?”

Jackson smirked slowly. ‘That’s more like it.’ Taking his phone from his pocket, his thumb pressed against the screen, he continued. “I’m glad we are all in agreement then.” Sending the text, he joined the group. “Here’s the plan.”

 

* * *

 

_*ping*_

“You need to calm down Scott.”

“I am calm!”

Isaac just chuckled at his friend, watching him unpack then repack his gear. “You’ll do fine.” Scott huffed, running his fingers through his hair helplessly. ‘You don’t know that.” He whispered, he was the captain now, he had to lead the team to victory and it was killing him. “What if I make the wrong call?” He asked his friend, “What if someone gets hurt. What if we never make a goal? It’ll be my fault and coach will kill me!”

“Coach won’t kill you.”

Scott began to argue but Isaac just snatched his bag from him, tossing it into the pile that gatherer by their bus. “Scott, take a breath before you get an asthma attack.” Scott pressed his lips in a pout taking a moment to calm his breathing down, not realizing his chest was feeling tight. Throwing his head back with a groan, Scott sat himself down on the side walk, trying to drown out the sounds of his fellow team mates chatting around, they were going to leave soon for their big game. A game that was on Scotts shoulders now.

* _ping*_

“You going to get that?”

Scott lowered his arms that hugged his knees to his sides, digging into his pockets for his phone. Bet his mom was sending a quick note of good luck, she was so sad this morning when she told him she couldn’t make it to his game. The hospital needed her to stay later and they needed the money. Well, she didn’t say the last part but he knew, after taking Isaac in, moneys been a bit tight but she didn’t regret it. Scott didn’t either but he wished he could help out more but Isaac swore to record the game so they could all watch it when she got home.

Looking at the screen, his brows shot up in surprise. “It’s from Jackson.” Isaac crouched down behind him, glancing over his shoulder at the screen. “Hope you’re ready for tonight.’? Is he trying to synch you out?”

Scott stared at the words for a moment longer, not understanding by his stomach felt like it was going to drop. “.. I don’t know…” Turning his phone off, he tapped the corner against his chin lightly, “… Something… isn’t right.”

 

* * *

 

 

“You look so handsome.”

Derek glanced over his shoulder to find his mother smiling, standing in the doorway of his room. Derek looked back down at himself, palms smoothing out his white button down. When he had gotten home he was greeted with both his parents standing on the porch awaiting him. His mother with her arms crossed, thick black hair pulled into a bun, her face set in disapproval while his father sat back on the porch swing, idle fingers itching the thick hair on his chin. Derek knew what was to come so he didn’t even bother to say anything til his mother pointed a pink coated fingernail at the spot right in front of her, an unspoken demand to where to stand. He always hated how his mother could make him feel like he was five again getting caught trying to sneak one of Uncle Peters ‘special brownies’ left in the basement during his last visit. That was not a pleasant memory, he blamed Uncle Peter for that, which his Uncle got a ear full on his end too but still.

With a sigh, he took the spot before his mother, feeling so small even thou he was taller than her by a good three inches.

“Explain.” Was all she said, her voice sharp. Derek glanced over to his father, watching the older man raise a brow, hands busying themselves in preparing his pipe. Derek waving his hands a little, asking his father to tag in and help him out but his dad shook his head, waving his hands up in ‘not this time.’ Before lighting up, taking a quick drag of tobacco.

“Derek Hale I will not ask again.”

Derek looked up towards the ceiling in defeat. He wondered if his sisters’ were inside giggling, peeking out over the window seal in delight at his embarrassment.

“.. I’m sorry.”

“Not what I want to hear. Why did you skip school?”

“I… Something came up.”

“I want something BETTER then ‘something came up’ Derek you know you’re going to graduate soon! You have studies and responsibilities coming up and shit like this is not acceptable!”

“I know, it’s just that Stiles-“

“The Sheriffs son?” His father finally spoke out, breathing out a thick swirl of gray smoke. “The same boy you’re taking to prom tonight?”

Derek nodded slightly at his father’s chuckle, “You ditched school to spend the day with that boy before the dance? Talk about romance son, where did you take him?”

“Dear.” His mother hissed, arms crossed tightly over her sweater. “This is not ‘romantic’ this is disrespect towards the school system.”

“It’s a little romantic.”

“Stop talking.” She snapped her eyes back to her son who only rubbed the back of his neck. “You skipped school today with Stiles?”

“…Yes…”

“Where did you go?”

“.. So our sanctuary.”

“You were trying to empress him?” His father grinned, “Has Stiles ever had been to it before? We should get him a proper tour; maybe get him to volunteer with us.”

His mother raised her hand and pressed her fingers against her forehead as her husband rambled, “As delightful as that sounds, We are discussing Derek here. If I had half a mind I’d ground you and make you call that boy and tell him you are not going to prom.”

Derek snapped his gaze to his mother quickly, lips parting in shock, “Mom no look I’m sorry but you cant-“

“I most certainly can young man.”

“Mom please Stiles is looking forward to this!”

“You should have thought of that BEFORE you skipped.”

“It’s my fault but you can’t punish Stiles too, I’ll ground myself for a month, I’ll work double over at the sanctuary, I’ll even car pool Cora to her summer classes just let me go to prom tonight.”

Derek stood there panting, green eyes pleading into his mothers own. The sad part was, this wasn’t even about Prom, no this was about Stiles. He wanted to take him out and show him the time of his life, Derek wanted to make that teenager smile at him like he did back in the forest, to touch him in the shadows of the night and feel the soft lips of his when he bent down to steal a kiss. He didn’t want to hear the sadness in Stiles voice when he tells him he can’t pick him up, can’t see the disappointment on his face when he walks into school Monday. He can’t, not from Stiles.

So they stood, toe to toe, letting the sound of wind around them answer the quietness with the soft creaking of the porch swing his father sat on. With a one blink, his mother held her hand up. “There are rules in this house for a reason Derek.” Despair sunk into his gut, causing him to look back down to the floor. “But… Cora mention to me today, that you agreed to play with her on her entry performance next month.”

Derek glanced back up at his mother, watching her face warm into a soft smile. “For that… I suppose I can hold off the punishment for a night.” Derek perked up then, “Mom.”

“Ah, you’re still not getting off easy.” She quickly pointed out, “We are having our family bonfire this weekend, I want you to bring Stiles along to meet the family.” Derek’s eyes widen a little in fear, his family’s bonfires were always huge, it was a yearly event, all the Hales coming to their house for a week to catch up and the first night they dig a huge pit in the middle of their backyard and set it on fire. They roast marshmallows, hotdogs, tell stories and sometimes dance depending on how much alcohol was brought.

“I don’t think Stiles is ready for that.”

“He’ll be fine. You WILL bring him to the bonfire, then you will drive Cora to EACH and every one of her summer classes AND you will help your father build the new guest room. I want it done before the reunion.”

Derek blinked in silence, staring at his smiling mother. “That’s it?”

“That’s it. Now go and get ready.”

With a slow nod, Derek made his way around her towards the door but before reaching it, he quickly spun around went back and gave her cheek a quick kiss. “Thanks mom.”

Now there he stood with her, who at the moment was holding up a light gray Boutonniere. Derek slid on his pure black dress vest, fixing the collar to lie over the strap neatly before sliding on his suit jacket. His father had went all out when they got him this suit, had it tailored just so it fit him just right, showing off all his angels and what his father had called it, the ‘Hale assets.’

Laura took after their Father in more ways than one.

Reaching up, his mother pinned the flower onto his lapel, fingers spreading out to smooth the coat down. Derek looked at the flower for a moment, “What if Stiles got me one already?” His mother only raised a brow before tapping his nose lightly, “Then you give him this one. Now, turn, let me get a look at you.” Derek rolled his eyes before with a step back, he opened his arms and turned, letting his mother take a good look.

She beamed at him, hands clapping together. “Oh Derek, you look perfect.”

“A chip off the old block!”

Derek’s father came in then grinning, holding up his camera. “Get next to him hun, its picture time.”

Derek let out a groan that was greeted with his mother soft smack to his chest. Holding his arm out, his mother wrapped her own in it to smile at their father as he snapped off.

“Wait! Don’t let him go yet!”

Dereks eyes widen as both his sisters rushed into the room, Cora already dressed in her Pjs while Laura dressed to the tens in her own dress, “I want a picture with Der bear!”

“Stop calling me that!” He growled but his older sister ignored him, wrapping one arm around his neck, settling herself at his side while Cora squeezed her way between their mother on his other side. “Why are you dressed up?” Derek questioned as his father snapped off another photo. Laura smirked at him, brushing a curl over her shoulder, “You’re not the only one with plans tonight now smile for the camera.”

Stiles would not met these people Derek swore.


	20. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Pink.” He muttered making Stiles looked at the sleeves of his shirt. “Had to be pink.”

Stiles paced across the living room for the fifth time. Shaking his hands, he pulled the curtains back to peer out into the night, eyes searching for his ride. The street laid bar under the street lamp and it only made Stiles press his lips and pace again. Derek said he would pick him up around eight, looking to the clock hanging in their hallway, it chimed ten minutes passed and Stiles found himself shaking, his muscles tightening in every limb. He wanted to sit down but run at the same time, he kept rushing back to the window with every passing sound of a car to be greeted with cold disappointment when it didn’t stop. Derek was just running late, he would be there soon.

Buttoning his gray jacket back up, his feet carried him back towards the hallway, hands reaching up to brush at his hair, biting at his lower lip in worry. Was it too much? He wanted to look nice so he went for more of a slick up, smooth but spiked up so his bangs didn’t hit his forehead. Touching his face, he rubbed at his eyes quickly when he noticed some ‘sleep crust’ lingering in the corners. Letting his eyes unfocused from the picture frame he was staring into, the reflection showing him, once again, he was fine. He looked back towards the living room.

8:15 pm.

Stiles took a deep breath, unbuttoning his coat. It was too hot to wear it anyways, he didn’t want to sweat in it besides he would wrinkle it more. He’ll just wait until Derek pulled up THEN put it on. Yeah. Laying the coat down on the couch, he pulled at the bottom of his charcoal gray vest, making sure his dress shirt was tucked into his pants neatly.

“He’s not coming.”

Stiles jumped at the voice, spinning towards his dad who sat at the kitchen table across the hall, peering at him as his hands gripped his sides tightly. Stiles frowned at him before shaking his head. “He’s just running late.” Brushing his palms against thighs, Stiles spun around to face his father, opening his arms wide. “How do I look?”

John just continued to stare at him, brows pulled down. “Pink.” He muttered making Stiles looked at the sleeves of his shirt. “Had to be pink.”

“It’s not pink dad.” Stiles replied, making his way into the kitchen, ignoring his fathers grumble in order to pull the fridge open. “Its red, just a lighter shade.”

“I know what pink is boy.”

Stiles pulled out a plastic box with a small smile. His fathers tone could not bring down his delight in his hands. Closing the door, he approached his father opening the box, pulling out a red rose, “What do you think?” Stiles whispered, holding up for his father to see. “Miss. Tilley said I should pin it on Dereks coat, do you think he would like it?” Stiles looked at John with a flush, just picturing the flower on Dereks lapel, having everyone see it on him. It would be the first Stiles ever got someone something, his first gift and he was going to give it to Derek.

John stanched the flower from his hand.

Stiles gasped, he didn’t even see his father move but John crushed the petals, tossing the broken stem. “He’s not coming!”

Stiles stared at the crumpled flower in dismay. His gift, his flower was broken! Looking up his father, Stiles burned with rage, tossing the box into Johns chest. “Why did you do that?!”

“When will you open your eyes?” John seethed, “that boy isn’t coming. You were fooled, I bet he’s on his way to the dance right now, knowing you’re sitting here waiting for him like the pitiful freak you are.”

“You’re wrong.” Stiles answered weakly, he tried to hold onto that hope but with every minute that ticked by, the burning sensation began to build behind his eyes. He wont let his Johns words sink into his doubt, Derek would come. He would.

“Get changed.” John panted out lightly, hands out stretched to touch Stiles shoulders, “We’ll go talk to her.”

Stiles flinched away, “No.”

“We’ll ask her for forgiveness.”

“I won’t go in there.”

John touched his quivering shoulders. “We’ll both go.”

_*knock knock*_

The kitchen filled itself with silence at the sudden sound of knuckles against the front door. Both heads were turned towards the hall, both set of eyes watching, waiting. One breath, two.

_*knock*_

“ _Stiles?”_

A muffled voice could be heard from behind the door and Stiles face broke into a grin. It was Derek! Quickly he rushed away from his father, running to the living room for his coat. “I’m coming!!”

Watching Stiles struggle to get his jacket on, John rushed forward “No!” He barked, “I won’t let yo-“

“Sit down!”

Johns body was shove, smacking back into the chair he lingered in just minutes before. He moved to stand up again but Stiles just gripped his own head shouting, “Stay!” Like rope was tightening around his body, John was stuck on the chair, limbs pinned to his sides, legs glued to the ground. He rocked his chair back and forth, mouths opening to curse but his jaw snapped shut, teeth clicking together. With wide eyes, he watched his son stand there panting, beads of sweat forming across his brow.

“Don’t say a word, til I’m gone.” Stiles whispered. Keeping one hand towards his father, he give one more pushed, squeezing lightly at Johns throat making him groan out.

A warning.

“Not a word.”

Once Stiles knew his father was completely immobile. He fixed his jacket quickly. “I’ll be home early.” Removing his wallet and keys from the coffee table, he gave his father one last look. “… I love you dad…”

With that he rushed towards the front door, slipping the locks open to get outside and away from the burning eyes of his father.

 

* * *

  


Derek rubbed the back of his neck in worry when the door didn’t open. “Crap…” Stiles was mad. Turning around, he paced towards the end of the porch, placing his hands on his hips. His sister was to blame for this, he would have been on time if Laura didn’t snatch his keys claiming that ‘her’ date needed his fancy car. He was left high in dry. When voicing his opinion, she waved over her shoulder shouting, ‘Don’t worry Der bear. I got you another ride.’

His ride took longer than expected.

Tilting his head back to look up at the sky, he began to plan. He was going to get to Stiles, even if it was to apologize. With a nod to himself, he turned to knock on the door again when it sudden open and the teen himself came rushing out, slamming the door behind.

Up against the door, Derek stared in pure awe at the sight.

Stiles stared up at him wide eyed, cheeks red, almost blending into his collar shirt. Dereks eyes trailed down and he had to keep back the groan at the sight. If the clothes from this morning were a tease, this was sinful. Those dress pants hugged his hips like lovers hands, begging him to cup them and pull him closer. The dark gray suit only made his skin shine, he looked so mouth water, Derek had to squeeze his nails into his palms to keep from reach out and doing just that, pulling the younger boy closer and finally feeling those lips, lick at the bare skin of his throat, feel the vibrations when he moaned. God, he wanted to do so many things to him.

Pushing himself away from the door, Stiles came closer, arms going behind his back. “Hey..”

“Hi…” Stiles just ducked his head shyly, making Derek chuckle lightly before explaining. “Sorry I’m late; I had to get a ride.” Stiles tilted his head up, letting his eyes look towards his empty drive way finally noticing a lack of a car. “Did something happen?”

“Yeah, my sister.”

Stiles chuckled at that, one hand reaching up to rub at his chin. “So, I guess we’ll be walking to prom then?” Derek scoffed at the idea before taking a side step, waving one arm out to the yard. “No, I thought we could go in this.”

Stiles moved to join Derek at the edge of the porch, looking out at the object in front of them in shock. Along the street there was a pure white stretch limo, black tinted windows reflecting the street lights. Stiles looked from the limo to Derek, then back to return again before pointing out to the object.

“In that?!”

Derek nodded.

“We’re going in a limo?!”

Derek rose a brow at the question. Stiles just gasped before laughing out, jumping on place. “I always wanted to get in one of those. Derek this is amazing!” Without a second thought, Stiles launched himself at the older boy, wrapping his arms around his back in a tight hug, burying his face into his chest. “It’s just like a dream!”

Derek jolted at the hug, arms rising at the attack but to hear Stiles laugher and his warm words. Derek couldn’t help but wrap his own arms around the teens shoulders, hugging him tighter. They stood like that for a moment, Derek chin rested upon Stiles head, letting the younger boy bounce in glee against him. Finally Stiles calmed down enough to realize what he was doing, making him go still in Derek grasps. Derek just kept smiling, rubbing his back lightly.

“… I’ve embarrassed myself didn’t I?”

“Yup.”

“… Can we forget that happened?”

“Nope.”

Stiles shoulder slumped but his arms never dropped, fingers holding onto his black suit coat. But enough time was wasted; they had a party to get too. With one last squeeze, Derek released Stiles, letting the teen get his composer back. “So, you ready?”

Stiles looked back to the limo, images of how the night could end up, fantasies he’s always dreamed appearing before his eyes. He nodded, “Yes.”

Derek took one step down from the porch, pausing to reach behind, offering his arm out. Stiles fidgeted a little at the idea of holding his arm but his need to touch won so he quickly latched on, letting Derek lead the way.


	21. Chapter 20

“It’s all set”

Jackson relaxed against the railing peering over, watching the Prom committee do their last minute checkups before the seniors showed up. Jackson narrowed his eyes as Lydia barked out orders, rushing one body after another. He would have been impressed by her, hell he would even be tempted to date her if she wasn’t as smart as she was pretty. She wore her brains on her sleeve like a badge of honor and kept no secret how everyone else ‘paled in comparison’. He sucked air between his teeth, ‘bitch’ he muttered before a pair of arms wrapped around his shoulders from behind.

Letting the rail go, he pressed back into Kate, the walkway was narrow so her body was pressed into his own. Hidden in the shadows, they stood over the stage, spot lights lingering below them. It was the perfect spot, the perfect view for when his prank comes. Reaching out, he thumped his fingers lightly against the straight line of rope that laid before him, wrapped around a metal pole to where the end was tied off.

Waiting to be pulled.

Begging to be pulled.

Placed neatly on a wooden slab, a bucket awaited. Thick liquid so dark it appeared black rippled with every thump his fingers gave. His plan was going to be big, he was going to knock that freak back down to the dirt, put that maggot back in his place and make him regret even THINKING he was like them.

“Remember.” Kate whispered in his ear, her slender fingers curling around his own, placing them around the rope to squeeze. “Once he is on stage.” She breathed, letting Jackson paint the imagine in his mind. “We pull the rope.”

“I pull the rope.” Jackson corrected.

Kate just chuckled, lips pressing against the back of his neck. “Oh course baby. You pull the rope and then we run.” She squeezed his hand tightly, “If you stay to watch the aftermath, I’ll leave you behind.” He glanced over his shoulder at her as she released him, moving to his side. “What we are about to do is criminal baby. I won’t get caught for a prank like this.” Touching his chin, she tilted his head up to kiss his lips lightly, breathing her words against his mouth. “Pull and run Jackson. That’s it.”

“Pull and Run.”

“You ready baby?”

Jackson gave a smug smile, nails digging into the rope.

 

* * *

  

Staring out the window, Stiles felt like a bundle of nothing but nerves. They were parked outside of the prom sight, lights and banners along the entrance signaling everyone inside. Lydia had went all out, raising enough money for them to host the dance at a five star hotel, the ‘only’ five star hotel in their little city with a connecting convention that was big enough to host such an event. He was really there; all he had to do was get out of the limo and walk inside.

Get out the limo.

Get out of the limo…

“Let me.” Dereks arm came into view as he reached for the latch, pushing the door open. Panic set into Stiles bones at the gust of air and the voices of other students who began to gatherer outside. “No!” Quickly he pulled the door back shut, silencing the voices outside. Derek went still, pulling his arm back to his side.

“Can we…Can we just sit here? For a minute?”

Derek nodded slowly before leaning back, settling himself once again in his seat. If Stiles wanted to wait, then so be it. Derek didn’t like going to these kind of things anyway, even the after parties when his friends, well friend, would invite him too was always met with a decline and preferred to stay home. Was it bad of Derek to hope Stiles didn’t want to go in? Derek had half a mind to throw the idea at him, why go to this stupid prom when they could go to a nice restaurant and Derek could treat Stiles how he wanted to treat him. Glancing over, Derek studied Stiles profile for a minute and he couldn’t help but smile.

Stiles looked good…really good.

Derek felt a hot pulse of worry. He shouldn’t take Stiles in there; someone else might agree and think they could be near him. Some of those girls will try to dance away with him or even some guy would walk over and whisper a few charming words and lure him away. No, Derek could not allow this. He had to tell Stiles they couldn’t go. They needed to leave.

“Stiles.”

“Thank you.”

Derek words died on his tongue when Stiles turned to look at him fully. His face was flushed and his eyes were misted but his mouth, his lips were turned up in a smile that took Derek’s breath away.

“For what?”

“For everything.” Stiles gave a breathless chuckle, fingers quick to wipe at his face, brushing away the tears. “For being nice to me, for taking me here, for the limo! Just… everything..” Turning away, Stiles looked back out the tinted windows. “… After tonight, if you go back to ignoring me, I won’t hold it against you.” He whispered, “But I wanted to just tell you… thank you.”

Derek was being selfish…

Looking down at himself, his eyes looked towards the white rose his mother had pinned to his jacket. Quickly he unpinned the stem, turning towards the younger teen. “Stiles.” He called out softly, pulling the younger boys attention back. Stiles watched with wide eyes as Derek pressed forward, pinning the white rose to his gray lapel. “Don’t be stupid.” Derek muttered, “I promised to take you to the wolf sanctuary. “ He looked into those brown eyes that watched him so hopefully, no longer in fear or sorrow. This was what Derek wanted to see, this was what Derek wanted Stiles to always look like. Derek gave him a small smile, brushing his fingers along Stiles collar, “I’m not going to ignore you Stiles. You know too much about me now.” Derek crossed his arms with a half hearted glare. “Need to make sure you don’t tell anyone.”

Stiles stared with wide eyes at Derek in silence. Dereks lip twitched a little and Stiles cracked, quickly he covered his mouth but it didn’t muffle much of his laughter. Derek couldn’t help but join in as well, enjoying the broken tension and seeing Stiles finally relax.

Stiles looked at his hands for a moment before he went and punched Dereks arm lightly, “I wouldn’t tell anyone..ever..” he promised. Derek nodded to his words already knowing Stiles would. With a deep breath, Derek looked out the window of Stiles door, tilting his chin towards it. “You ready?”

Stiles took another look out the window, letting his eyes trace along the soft white lights that dangled from the entrance, the blue and sliver balloons linking along the sidewalk and one body after another making their way inside, colors swirling around in dresses and suits as couples held onto one another. He was scared… Derek touched his shoulder, giving him a soft squeeze and Stiles remembered he was not alone. Derek was with him, he would protect him. Reaching with a shaky hand, he took Dereks own, giving a tight squeeze in return.

“Ready.”


	22. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two spot lights were aimed and planted to shine continually on the objects in the middle of the stage, thm being two large thrones. Wooden frame of each throne was painted sliver to match the theme of the dance, white padding stitched carefully into the bottom seat and along its spine, so clean, so perfect. The chair on the left held something on its seat, a large silver crown, bulky and big with blue crystals covering the tips.
> 
> A crown made for a king.
> 
> One the second chair two items sat. Like the first, another crown rested but this one was smaller, thin metal frames twisted and curled into delicate designed, rising towards the air, glittering in the spot light with the help or every clear crystal that covered each and every frame. Stiles was amazed on how something so small, something that looked so breakable could hold so much attention and power. The bundles of white roses sitting behind it were barely noticed, only the crown. An object every girl desired.
> 
> A crown made for a Queen.

It was everything and nothing he pictured it to be.

Across the grand room, white and blue lights flickered in the shadows over head, shining so softly one could sit back and truly believe they were outside, staring among the stars. The dance floor was bear with wooden surfaces, sleek and inviting since only a few couples were already twirling to the music in each other’s arms. Balloons swayed in the air from where they were tied, a bundle of 12 on each corner of the dance floor. Each one staked upon one another, a ladder to the stars above. Right in the middle of the dance floor, a sliver disco ball hung, spinning slowly on its string, its lone spot light shining against its skin reflecting the light all around, touching everything, everyone with its white light.

Along the walls, sliver and blue streams were hung in amazing designs; looking as thou water surrounded them, their bodies moving freely in the waves of music and laughter. They team really outdid themselves, at least to Stiles eyes. Covering the rest of the floor tables were shattered all around. Pure white table cloth cover each and every one with a rich navy blue under layer, plastic vase resting in the middle of each, filled with both clear and every shade of blue stones he could think of, all piled together to keep a single white tea candle over head, its flame licking at the warm air.

And the stage, oh the stage…

Lydia must be swelling with pride on finding a way to set a stage up in a place like this. It was large and took up a good section of the wall and floor space at the end of the room. Metal frames connecting to stabilize the platform, dark blue curtains draped overhead to the sides were they pulled to the floor. A speck of white caught Stiles attention making him tilt his head down a little to see that over the stage itself was a net stretched out, holding up multiple balloons and foil stars, ropes leading away to wear Stiles figured was a platform for someone to pull and let them all fall once they made their announcements.

Taking his eyes away, he let his eyes wonder to the end of the right stage, noticing the DJ was set up. Headphones resting around his neck, head bobbing to the beat pulsing out of the speakers in front of his table, fingers moving doing something to the notes of music in his laptop. Taking his eyes away, Stiles looked back to the stage, mainly the center of the stage.

There the main focus of all eyes lay.

Two spot lights were aimed and planted to shine continually on the objects in the middle of the stage, thm being two large thrones. Wooden frame of each throne was painted sliver to match the theme of the dance, white padding stitched carefully into the bottom seat and along its spine, so clean, so perfect. The chair on the left held something on its seat, a large silver crown, bulky and big with blue crystals covering the tips.

A crown made for a king.

One the second chair two items sat. Like the first, another crown rested but this one was smaller, thin metal frames twisted and curled into delicate designed, rising towards the air, glittering in the spot light with the help or every clear crystal that covered each and every frame. Stiles was amazed on how something so small, something that looked so breakable could hold so much attention and power. The bundles of white roses sitting behind it were barely noticed, only the crown. An object every girl desired.

A crown made for a Queen.

Stiles couldn’t stop from staring when they walked in. He wanted to see everything, take everything in. He wanted to remember every little detail, every outfit , hear every song so come tomorrow when the real would came crashing back, he could go into the shell of his mind and remember this night, perhaps it would make the pain and loneliness easier to handle.

A touch to his arm snapped Stiles from his daze, returning his focus back to his date. Derek rose a thick brow at him in amusement, his grip pushing Stiles gentle forward. Stiles finally noticed there was a gap between him and the next couple in line. “Oh!” Quickly Stiles rushed forward, embarrassment covering his face to be caught zoning out. Derek followed him closely, letting his hand drop from his elbow to his lower back and there it stayed. Stiles tried not to shiver from the warmth he felt, the solid weight of Dereks hold, tried not to show how much he wanted to lean over and press against his side and seep in the essence of Derek, breath in his cologne and musk. He must have failed due to Derek chuckle and tender brush of fingers as they trailed their way to Stiles hip, resting there.

Oh god. Stiles was going to overheat from how much he’s blushing.

It wouldn’t have been so bad if people didn’t stare. The second they walked in, people’s heads were turning, looking at them both in a mixer of shock and disbelief. One of them even took their phone out to take snap a photo. All the attention was making Stiles retreat back, the fear that he pushed down starting to climb back up. He started to back up when his spine pressed against Derek’s Chest. He had forgotten Derek was standing right behind him, blocking his exit. Looking over his shoulder, Stiles looked up to Derek in a plea, lips pressing into a frown, trying to tell Derek without forming the words how afraid he was. Derek responded by leaning forward, warm hands cupping Stiles elbows, soft breath touching Stiles ear making him flinch in a gasp. Derek whispered his words making the pool of fear melt away and another sensation began to form in his gut.

_‘I wont let them hurt you.’_

He… He believed those words. Looking forward into the sea of judging faces and whispers. Stiles took a deep breath and straighten his shoulder back out, he took one unsteady step forward, then another til he stood in line to get their photo taken.

The photo booth was so cheesy it was almost bad but that was what made it so perfect for these photos. Props were littered on both sides allowing you to pick and customize your photo, be traditional pose or you could do silly hats or breads, you could put on different designs of glasses, write saying on white boards and hold over one another in delight. Stiles couldn’t help but chuckle at a few ideas groups of students were doing.

“Alright, next couple.”

Stiles bit his lower lip as he moved to take his spot in front of the display. Derek watched him carefully, seeing Stiles look at the displays and toys with a need to reach out and grab them but staying in place, unsure if Derek would allow such a thing. This made Derek huff, when the photographer lifted the camera to snap the shot, Derek held his hand out to stop him. He might regret it… No, he definitely will regret it but it was for his date and he DID promise Laura he would do whatever it took to make sure his date was happy.. even at his own expense.

“Go on.”

Stiles whipped around so fast Derek thought for a second he would topple over. Stiles looked at him unsure before realization struck. Derek was pretty sure if Stiles had a tail, it would be wagging uncontrollably right about now. Stiles pointed to the box at his side and Derek just sighed deeply before nodding. The sacrifice was almost worth it when Stiles hopped and rushed to the box, a grin blooming on his face. Derek could only imagine the horror of what his date would pick out, would it be hats? Masks? God Derek hoped it wouldn’t be the mouth pieces, He was willing to go far but buck teeth was drawing the line. His family didn’t need any more ammo to mock him.

Stiles made his choice and came back to his side and Derek readied himself for his humiliation.

Stiles held up a cardboard cutout, shaped and painted like a picture frame. He held it over to Derek with a shy smile, eyes glancing down to the second object he held. Derek took the frame and Stiles held up the plastic flower, the petals were red and bent and yellow beads were glue badly in the middle to give off a look of ‘pollen’ but Stiles held it up to Dereks lapel blushing. “..Um… if this is okay.” He whispered, “.. I had a real one.. A rose for you but it was..” He bit his lower lip, fingers twirling the fake flower, “… I wanted to pin one on you..”

Derek couldn’t take his eyes off the sight. Stiles wasn’t going above and beyond like all the others, Stiles was picking something safe and small… Somewhere, deep down Derek had a feeling Stiles holding back his outrageous demands for a photo to spare Derek the embarrassment in front of the student body and for that.. For that Derek just held the frame up with one hand, the other reaching out to wrap around his dates side, pulling him closer, pressing into each other’s sides. He kept his smile when Stiles looked up, both their faces giving off a blush across their cheeks, Stiles got his ears involved too and that made Derek chuckle. The photographer snapped the photo while Stiles laughed nervously, fingers pressing the flower to Derek’s lapel.

“Great, next couple!”

Away from the backdrop, they finally walked into the main floor. Stiles was finally here.

“Hale.”

Stiles turned with Derek at the call and appearing from the crowed another couple approached.

“Boyd.”

Derek held his arm out which Boyd clasped tightly in return. If Derek was known for being a loner at school, Boyd was a close second. At times when Stiles looked out, he would see both guys sitting on the benches outside, speaking to one another every now and then. Sometimes if Derek ate in the cafeteria, Boyd would sit across from him. There were days when they wouldn’t speak a word to one another, some people found it weird and creepy. Stiles thought it was nice; Derek had someone to hang out with and connect to on a different level. They didn’t need to speak to have a conversation; they didn’t need to be around one another 24/7 to have a friendship. They had a understanding and for months, Stiles yearned for the same.

“I’m shocked you actually came.” Boyd smiled. Derek just gave a shrug, “Why not? Had nothing better to do.”

“Settle down you two, leave some of that excitement for the dance floor.”

Stiles looked to the side and finally took in what clung to Boyds arm and he had to say.

Standing before him stood a beautiful creature in black. Her dress was made of satin, made to hug her form, showing off her curves and hips. The skirts rippled around her to the floor yet on the right side, the fabric was sliced open to the thigh, letting her leg be seen when she walked or stood in a certain way. The dress was cut low, letting the pale flesh of her collar bone and shoulders be seen, letting anyone’s eyes flicker down to her bust where her breasts peeked up and proud. Her golden hair was curled and free, trailing along her back and shoulders, locks tracing her skin like lovers fingers. She was sinful in all the best ways and wild in everything else. Stiles wondered how someone who looked so free and untamed could stand next to someone so planted and calm. His question was answered when Boyd glanced down at his date, his face transforming into an expression Stiles had never seen before, an expression of pure love and devotion to the women at his side. Pale hands tugged on Boyds arm which were soon covered by one of his own. She seemed so small compared to him but she stood as if she could take on the world.

Stiles didn’t doubt she could.

“Hale, Stilinski.” Stiles was shocked Boyd spoke to him. “This is Erica.”

Derek nodded his head to the lady but Stiles only pointed at her. “You don’t go to this school.”

Boyds face transformed back to his natural setting; causing Stiles quickly drop his arm. Erica’s voice came out in a pearl of laughter, “Oh Derek.” She cooed, “He’s so cute. Boyd why didn’t you tell me about him sooner?” Before Stiles could apologize, Erica released her dates arm to reattach herself to Stiles, much to Derek outrage. Steering him away, Erica began to walk, tugging him along. A look over his shoulder showed Derek looking at Boyd with an expression Stiles could only assume was judgment which Boyd replied with a smirk.

No one could tame Erica.

“I’m homeschooled.” Erica went on to answer, eyes glancing around the room. “Had to twist Boyd arm to get him to ask me to this.”

Stiles trembled in her grasps. He never had a girl touch him, he never had anyone hold onto him and talk to him like this. “H-How did you t-two met?” Erica side eyed him before smiling, red painted lips curling to each word. “Ice rink.” She answered. She didn’t give anymore and Stiles did ask, he figured Erica didn’t want him to know. Erica pulled him suddenly to the side, making him stumble to keep up. “Don’t look so scared Stiles.” Erica laughed, “I’m betting our two hot pieces of ass are going to spend all their time at our table, staring longingly at one another or the exit, which we’ll be left to entertain ourselves. This means you, my little cutie, are going to be my new dance partner.”

Oh no. “I-I don’t know how to dance.”

Ericas smirk just grew, “Always a first time for everything.”

As Stiles began to babble, Erica released him when she found what she was searching for. Walking forward, she touched an empty table with a nod. “This one.” No sooner did she say that, Boyd appeared behind her, pulling an empty chair out for her to sit. A swirl of black fabric and she was taking her seat, Boyd sitting close by, his face buried in her hair. Stiles didn’t want to approach such a scene, it was nerve wrecking and a part of him, deep down in his heart, was a bit envious.

“Sit.”

Stiles jumped in surprise to Dereks voice whispering into his ear so close and sudden. He looked beside him and there Derek stood, an empty chair pulled out as well, both hands clasping the back. Derek nodded his head, waving one hand down in an offering which sent Stiles heart racing. Derek was holding a chair out for Stiles.

Quickly, before his mind could talk him out of it. He rushed forward and sat down, chuckling happily when Derek pushed his chair into the table in order to take his own. He didn’t sit as close as Boyd did with Erica but Stiles was okay with that. He sat close enough to allow one hand to touch the back of Stiles chair, letting his thumb brush across Stiles shoulder, keeping contact.

Stiles couldn’t hold back his smile.


	23. Chapter 22

Its been an hour into the dance and Stiles was enjoying himself. Announcements were made, refreshments were served and dancing was underway. The whole time Stiles stayed seated with Derek, head bobbing a little to the music. Erica had gotten up a while ago and dragged Boyd onto the dance floor and Stiles has to admit. He liked her. She was loud and opinionated mostly when it came to her passions. Which was fashion and comics, this got them talking. For a second Stiles felt normal, talking over the pros and cons of Haley Quinn while Erica blistered and fumed over the love Poison Ivy held for her and how they should just get married. Stiles couldn’t stop smiling, even more when he glanced over and watched Derek and Boyd talking to one another. It was like a pack, Stiles found a group of people to be with, to be himself and non of them made him feel lesser for it.

Another song began to play, this time it was a song that had dance steps to it since people were starting to line up, doing the same steps like hoping in place and stomping. He chuckled at the sight, enjoying the entertainment when Derek got up. “I’m getting some punch, you want any?” Stiles nodded, feeling his heart a flutter when Derek grasped the back of his neck lightly, stroking his fingers lightly at the end of his hair before walking off. Everything was going so smoothly.

“Stilinki?”

Stiles glanced over and pushed himself up quickly to his feet. Dressed in a smoke gray dress, Lydia crossed her arms at him, a perfect brow raised. She approached him quickly, her green eyes narrowed, moving one way to another, analyzing him in every detail. He swallowed nervously, fingers quick to brush at the back of his pants where the fabric creased from sitting. He waited for her to speak, unsure of what to say. Was Lydia going to tell him he looked nice? She picked the outfit herself! Wait, what if she says he looked terrible? What if he did his hair wrong? Lydia pressed her pink lips together, index finger tapping her chin. “I got to say Stilinski.” She began, “You don’t look half bad.”

Relief washed over him, causing his body to sag a little. “Thank you.” He whispered. Her hand reached out, brushing at his lapel, eyes widening at the flower. “Derek pinned this on you?” He nodded and Lydia chuckled, “That’s sweet. Didn’t think he had it in him.” Lowering her arms back to her front, red curls bouncing at her shoulders, she looked out to the floor. “What do you think?”

“.. Of the prom?”

“Of course.”

“… D-Does my answer matter?”

Lydia snapped her head at him causing him to flinch back. If glares could kill, Stiles didn’t doubt he be dead on the floor. “I-I mean it looks beautiful.” Lydia huffed a little, arms crossing. “Just beautiful?”

He was unsure for a moment, watching her eyes trail around the room, fingers squeezing her elbows tightly every few seconds. Was she.. Was Lydia nervous? Stiles couldn’t believe that, Lydia was known for being above everyone, showing no cracks in her emotions when she dealt with projects or problems. Looking back around the room, it finally dawned on Stiles. Lydia told him back at the mall this was going to be her ‘make it or break it’ moment for school. She wanted to show her junior classes that she was better than them that they needed her more then they let on when she skipped ahead in grades.

Lydia was kind of like Stiles. Where Stiles longed to be accepted and belong, Lydia wanted to be looked up to and admired.

“This prom is amazing Lydia.” He whispered, “I don’t think my prom is going to be anywhere as perfect.” She looked up to him again and this time, a small smile greeted him. Rubbing the back of his head, he looked to the floor, “These guys are lucky to have you in their class Lydia.” He muttered. A gentle touch made him look down and there, in his hand Lydia held onto him lightly. She was looking out onto the dance floor, her face beaming with pride. She didn’t thank him for his words but she didn’t mock them. This would be the closest thing he got and he accepted it. Giving her hand a squeeze in return, she let him go to collect herself once again. Flicking a lock over her shoulder, she began to walk away, her voice calling back to him. “You have my vote Stiles.”

Stiles tilted his head at her words before a cup was placed before him. With a grin, he took the punch, bringing it to his lips as Derek watched Lydia leave. “What did she say?”

“She said she was voting for me… What do you think she meant?”

Derek shook his head a little before gliding Stiles back to his seat. Before he could take his own, a new body approached, “You two made it.”

“Ms. Morrell!” Stiles smiled, getting up to greet her quickly. Ms. Morrell just smiled, dressed so classy in her dark navy blue bodycon dress. She reached out and took both of Stiles hands, holding his arms out to take a look at his outfit. “Stiles, you look very handsome.” Stiles flushed a little before thanking her for her words. Her sharp gaze went to Derek who stood behind the younger boy silently. “Derek, I hope you are on your best behavior?” Before Derek could reply, Stiles jumped in front of him, taking her hands to shake them lightly. “He is! He picked me up in a limo and everything.” Her eyes widen a bit in surprise before she chuckled lightly, pulling the younger boy close to give him a quick hug. “I’m glad you’re having fun.” When he could not see her face, she shot a quick glare to Derek, a finger pointing at him before to the floor. Derek could see between the lines, Ms. Morrell was demanding he dance with Stiles.

Letting him go, Ms. Morrell cupped his face lightly, “I’m happy for you.”

Stiles laughed a little, shaking his head in her grip. Yet she let him go after one more pat to the face, walking away to monitor the crowed once again. Derek took a breath, the time had come. Placing his cup down, he went to Stiles side, watching him for a second as he enjoyed himself. Clearing his throat, he turned to the younger boy, getting his attention. “Do.. you want to dance?”

Stiles looked at Derek in shock before he quickly shook his head, waving his hands in front of him feverishly. “N-No! I um, You can I just.. I can’t dance.” Derek let out a deep breath he was holding before he chuckled, “Maybe we’ll wait for a slower song?” Stiles looked down at his hands as they clenched in the air, a shy smile touching his face. “A slow dance..?”

“There’s not a lot of steps in those. It’s a simply side to side movement.”

“…Wont you be embarrassed?”

“Why?”

“Because you’re dancing with me?”

Derek glared down at him for a moment before growling out, “Stiles, I don’t care what others think.” Moving a step closer, he cupped the back of Stiles shoulders, letting their forehead touch lightly. “I’ll dance to every song here until you understand. I’m not embarrassed to be seen with you… I’m actually honored. “ Derek squeezed his shoulders lightly, “I got to have the best looking guy on my arm tonight.”

Stiles began to breathe deeply, trying to calm his racing heart. The words, the feeling, the confession was too much and Stiles couldn’t stop himself from chuckling. “Derek..”

“Stiles!!”

Both boys watched as Erica came rushing out of the crowed. “Stiles! Come dance with me!” She snatched the boy by his forearms, tugging him from Dereks grip,

“Erica!”

“You got to have him long enough Derek, now its my turn.”

“W-What about Boyd?!”

“He’ll keep Derek company now come on! I love this song!”

He glanced back at Derek as Boyd joined the table again. Stiles gave him a pleaing look but Derek just gave a helpless shrug. He could go and stop it but the look Erica was giving him pretty much told Derek if he cut between them, one of her pretty spiked heels was going someplace not so nice.

Stiles was on his own for this one.

 

* * *

 

 

“Where the hell did everyone go?! McCall!”

Scott looked up from the bench, rubbing a towel over his face. Coach Finstock was turning red in the face, his body language screaming rage. “Yeah Coach?”

“Where the hell the team?!”

Scott frowned before looking behind him. Now that he took a moment, he noticed a good portion of their team was missing. The game was almost done, with their team in the lead. When they walked away with victory Jackson was going to choke on his own tongue to know they did it without him and that image made Scott smile.

“We still have ten minutes left in the game, Why are my best players missing? McCall find them!”  Finstock threw is clipboard on the ground, “I swear if they are pulling some kind of prank I’m benching every single ONE OF THEM.”

With his rant on full volume, Scott stood up to look. Rushed footsteps came to his side when Isaac came into view. “Hey, did you see what happen to everyone?” Isaac shook his head but pulled out his phone. “No but that’s not why I’m here. Look.” Taking the phone, Scott looked at an email in confusion. “Jackson sent an e-mail to the team?”

“He must of forgot to remove my name when I dropped out last semester. But read, he sent it to everyone but you.”

Scrolling up, Scott’s eyes widen.

“We need to go.”

“How far is the hotel from here?”

“About twenty minutes if we run.”

“Shit, We need to stop him!”

Turning, Scott began to rush but Isaac snatched his arm. “Scott what if it’s too late?”

“We have to try!” Pulling Isaac arm, they both took off, leaving behind the cheering crowed and a screaming Coach.

“What the hell, McCall! MCCALL _GET BACK HERE_!”


	24. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "And tonight, The class of ’14 prom King and Queen are…”
> 
> “Midnight.” Stiles whispered against Derek’s mouth causing him to huff out a laugh. Derek agreed thou, not with words but with touch sealing their lips back together, drowning the world around them in white noise, nothing else matter.

“Alright everyone! Return to your tables, it’s time to vote!”

Stiles slumped into his chair with a deep sigh, his side pinching. Erica was determined and as much as a fool when she took his arms and began to move him, her voice called out, ‘Don’t look at them!’

With pressed lips he tried to follow her movements and again he felt like a complete moron. Erica laughed out when another body suddenly appearing at his side. Stiles looked and there another guy began to dance, dark bronze skin, perfect gelled hair, and dimples when he gave Stiles a smile. He began to move but slower, shoulders rolling, hips moving one way to another. Stiles looked to Erica and saw she was following his movements, her head wiping around to let her curls fly. Stiles glanced back at the boy before he lifted his own arms and began to take a step. The stranger laughed out, reaching out to rock Stiles to the rhythm, “One the count of three, jump!” He whispered into his ear. Stiles looked at Erica confused but she was lost in her own world, the music pulsing around them, getting louder and louder.

“One!”

Stiles looked back to the guy, watching him shake his hips making Stiles grin at the silly movements.

“Two!”

Stiles began to join along, spinning in a circle, flinging his arms out.

“Three!”

**_‘FIREBALL!!!’_ **

Together they all jumped and kept hopping to the beat, Stiles noticed groups of people beginning to do what he believed was a salsa, following the beat.

When the song ended, Lydia took the microphone and told everyone to sit down.

It was time to vote for the King and Queen.

“You okay?”

“Yeah..” Stiles breathed deeply, “I’m awesome.” Derek nodded, pushing a cup of punch that Stiles happily drank. Across the table, Erica draped herself in Boyds lap, wrapping her arms around his neck. “So which poor suckers are up for the crowns?” Erica cooed, one fingers trailing along Boyd right ear as he reached out and picked up her sheet as Stiles did the same.

“..Derek… I-I’m on this.”

Derek frowned, glancing over Stiles shoulder. Under the bold ‘King’ title, he read each name even his own, unsure why he made it into the court. “Where?” Stiles placed the paper back on the table top, slowly pointing to the next column. Derek followed and both brows shot up. Under the bold ‘Queen’ just a few names down, Stiles Stilinski sat. Stiles was up for prom queen.

“Is…Is this a joke?” Stiles whispered, his shoulders beginning to shake. Derek growled a little, pushing himself to stand, “Damn it.” He was about to find the principle and demand to know what sick joke was this when suddenly.

“You’re not the only guy on it Stiles.”

Both men glanced across the table as Boyd turned the sheet around, pointing at two other names. “Danny Malhealani and Steven Bucklen.”

“Why are there guy names under the queen section?” Derek questioned, easing himself back down into his chair.

“Lydia is the VP of LGBA. She did a protest last month about how unfair it was to only straight couples allowed on the ballads when in this day and century Gay couples are starting to come out and take part of the royal courts . So she put in what she thought was fair.”

“Now that you mention it..” Stiles looked down the line of King and found three girls names listed on. It looked like Lydia picked three straight couples and three gay/lesbian couples each.

“All’s fair in love and war.” Erica chuckled, kissing Boyd on his cheek as he smirked. “Since our names are not on it. I’m voting for you Stiles! You too Derek.” Erica snatched both her and her dates ballads, filling out the sheet much to Stiles dismay.

“No! You don’t have to, I don’t really want to win!”

“Why not? I think you would look adorable in that crown.” Erica winked at him but Stiles disagreed, “I-I don’t think I have the popularity to win this..”

“We may not win.” Derek muttered, tapping his fingers lightly on the ballad. “Danny is a shoe in.”

“Whose Danny?”

“You were dancing with him earlier.” Boyd offered making Stiles frown. Dancing with earlier? “ Oh! The dimples guy!” Stiles wouldn’t be surprised if Danny won, he was nice and kind of taught Stiles how to dance. “He was too close to you.” Derek muttered, putting Stiles thoughts on hold. “So for that I’m not voting for him.”

“Oh my god, Derek are you jealous?” Stiles asked suddenly. Dereks back went straight, glaring down at his date as he laughed into his own hands. “You are!” Derek huffed, pushing Stiles in his chair almost knocking the younger boy off. Stiles caught himself on the table laughing, overjoyed at the thought that Derek felt that way. No one had ever been jealous over him before.

“Who should we vote for?”

Derek rested his elbow on the table, tapping the pen lightly on the sheet as Stiles got back into his seat. A beat of silence and he marked the empty boxes by their names, Stiles reached out and covered his hand with his own, fingers curling into his palm. “Derek no. Don’t.”

Derek laid the pen down in order to turn his palms around, taking Stiles hands into his own. “Why?”

“It’s just, we won’t.”

Derek watched Stiles fight with himself, the odds of them winning was slim to none, there was no real chance but Derek couldn’t help but smile at the thought of announcer yelling their name. “Come on.” Derek whispered, brushing his thumb lightly against Stiles knuckles.

“There’s always a chance! If you win, all you have to do is go up on stage and get your photo taken for the year book so everyone can see what a couple of dorks you are!” Erica chimed in. Derek glared at her; she waved it off half heartly. “ _Adorable_ dorks you two are. Then you dance to some song and bam, you’re done.”

Stiles chewed on his bottom lip unsure. He didn’t think he deserved to win, he didn’t feel very comfortable having someone call him queen, not after the pool incident. Not after everything that happened. Derek squeezed his hand again, scooting closer to rest his chin lightly on Stiles shoulder, his warm breath brushing against his neck making him shiver.

“You don’t have too Stiles.” He whispered, “You can vote for whoever you want.” Stiles bowed his head a little, pressing his cheek into Dereks hair, breathing in his cologne, Stiles would never stop wondering how one touch or even one mere contact from the older boy could make Stiles stress and nerves melt away.

 “But I hope if they call my name, they call yours next. I don’t want to dance with anyone else in this school.”

A small smile touched his lips, “Unfair.” He whispered lightly getting Derek’s chuckle in return. Reaching over for the abandon pen, he took a moment to rethink his decision, giving himself a push to press down out and mark the empty boxes by both Derek and his own name. “To the devil with false modesty.” He muttered.

“To the devil.” Derek whispered back before his lips touched Stiles throat, causing the younger boy to stiffen. Pulling away, Derek collected their ballads, holding them up in the air for the collector to walk back and snatch away.

 

* * *

  

“Ballads, Ballads, thank you.” Quick hands began to snatch away the papers, fast feet moving around each table. “You filled them out? Good, thank you. You got some?” Snatched from the table, plucked from the air the pile in his hand began to grow.

Brushing his thumb along the stack, he smirked to himself as he made his way to the refreshments. With a slight of hand and quick movement, he let slip the ballads into the trashcan, pushing the napkins and tiny desserts on top to cover the evidence. Licking the icing from his thumb, he never stopped his movements, never paused as he continued to walk towards the stage. Unbuttoning his coat, he pulled out a new stack of ballads, tucking them neatly under his arm. “More ballads?” He smiled, plucking a few more on the way before arriving at the judging table. There five teachers sat, each one counting the votes at hand. Stopping beside it, He took the ballads from his arm and handed them over happily, “I got some more Ms. Morrell.”

Ms. Morrell took the papers, her dark eyes watching the gleaming smile slowly drop from his face. “Thank you.” Clearing his throat, he nodded. Buttoning his coat, he walked along the stage, pausing long enough to give thumbs up to the spot lights, knowing behind the ballons and foil stars, Jackson smirked.

“Everything’s in place.”

 

* * *

 

 

Derek closed his eyes a little when the table grew quiet. Across from him Erica and Boyd were lost in their own world, around them people were mingling and moving about as the judges pulled the votes together. Soft fingers shyly brushed along his forearm, warm air brushed along his palm. Glancing to the side, he watched Stiles happily touch his arm that was draped around his shoulders, Derek’s fingers brushing along the lapel of his coat. Stiles was resting heavily against Derek, cheek pressed into his shoulder, tucked closely under Dereks chin.

Derek felt… good.

No, more than good. He felt perfect. Reaching out he grabbed one of Stiles hands, letting the young boy chuckled under him and lace their fingers together, holding tight. Derek never thought tonight would end up like this, fuck he never thought asking Stiles out would get him this close to the boy. A boy Derek never even noticed suddenly made his dark world shine just a little bit brighter. A boy he often ignored made his heart squeeze with every shy smile tossed his face or full belly laugh that rocked from the once silent boy. Derek never would have pictures…

How stupid he has been.

Resting his chin on top the boys head, he gave him a squeeze, his eyes dancing along the flashing lights. He would do better by Stiles, from that moment on, he would make sure Stiles walked away from this building with a smile on his face and spend the next year with a bright future a head of him.

A future Derek hoped to be apart of. He wouldn’t be surprised if Stiles left him behind after all the years of turning a blind eye to the cruelties he suffered. Derek would accept it bitterly but until that time, Derek would work and make sure Stiles was protected, was happy.

“Stiles.” He began, feeling Stiles squeeze his fingers. “After the dance.. I was wondering if you wanted to go back out to the forest. There’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”

Stiles went still for a moment before he began to pull away. No! No no that’s not what Derek wanted but he let his arms drop, his hand thou was still clinging to Stiles. “I told my dad I would be home early.” Stiles confessed. Derek couldn’t help but chuckle, “Just listen.” He pushed, “I was thinking, after they make their announcements. I figured we can head out. We go to the forest and hang out, just the two of us for a bit and then I’ll take you home by eleven.”

“.. You said you wanted to tell me something?”

“Nothing bad. Actually really embarrassing but that can wait. I just want to have some time with you.” Derek shrugged, waving his free hand to the side a little, “ Without others. We’ll be done by eleven.”

Smiling a little, Stiles scooted his chair a little closer, “Eleven thirty.”

Derek couldn’t stop the grin from blooming on his face. “Eleven thirty.”

Derek looked into Stiles eyes and he swore, for just a second deep within his mind. He heard music begin to play, Music he long ago forgotten and silenced with Paige. Raising their joined hands, he pressed his lips against Stiles knuckles, “I’m glad you came with me tonight.”

“I’m glad you asked me.”

Sharing a smile, Derek couldn’t stop looking at the younger boy, watching his face flush red, his brown eyes darken with happiness yet sparkle in the spot lights. Stiles never looked more handsome then he did right now. “What the hell.” Derek whispered making Stiles tilt his head in question. With his free hand, he cupped Stiles jaw, brushing his fingers across those tiny moles, feeling him shiver under the touch. He traced until he reached the back of Stiles head, sinking his fingers into his hair, the younger boy gasped a little, eyes wide. Derek had the urge, he couldn’t stop. Giving Stiles a soft tug forward, Derek moved, bringing their faces closer letting their noses touch. He would go no more, he felt the need, he wanted to kiss him, taste him but that didn’t mean Stiles felt the same.

Stiles had to finish the rest of the gap.

Stiles heart was racing widely, shocked that this could really be happening to him. Clinging to Dereks arms tightly, Stiles took the chance, he took the step he was always so scared to take, took a chance he never thought he could take. He finished the gap and moved closer, touching his lips against Dereks own, breathing him in.

It was perfect.

_“And tonight, The class of ’14 prom King and Queen are…”_

“Midnight.” Stiles whispered against Derek’s mouth causing him to huff out a laugh. Derek agreed thou, not with words but with touch sealing their lips back together, drowning the world around them in white noise, nothing else matter.

_“Derek Hale and Stiles Stilinski!!”_


	25. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He wanted to take people on a journey on the strings of his violin and give them a peek into his world and in his depression; he closed the door on it.
> 
> And now Stiles busted that door down without even knocking.

Scott fell to the sidewalk coughing. His lungs were on fire, he couldn’t catch his breath. Grabbing at his chest, he tried to gasp, tried to catch the air but nothing was filling his lungs, his throat was closing. Pressing into the brick wall beside him, he struggled. Hands grabbed his face, lifting it from where it bowed towards his chest, someone was trying to get his attention. Shaking his head, Scott tried to explain but something solid was forced into his mouth and suddenly his throat gave way.

His inhaler.

A small relief began to spread as he took one hit after another, soothing the fire in his chest. Looking up, Isaac knelt next to him in worry, “Scott your asthma.” He whispered but Scott shook his head. Damn it, his body was starting to show its true colors. Grabbing his inhaler from Isaac hand, he grabbed the blondes shoulder, squeezing tightly, “Isaac go.”

“I’m not leaving you! Your mom told me to watch over yo-“

“We need to stop them!” Scott hissed. “Everything we’ve done to Stiles, this is going to destroy him! We have to stop them!” His shouting caused his body to wreck itself into coughs, Isaac quick to pat his back but Scott would not have it. Grabbing Isaac forearms, he pushed, “Go! Get to the dance and get Stiles out of there!” He wheezed, “I’ll be right behind you. Go!”

Isaac shook his head again but Scott just pushed, reaching down to clutch his chest. “I’ll be right behind you.”

With shaking hands, Isaac pressed his lips in worry for one more second before giving a nod. “Okay.” Pushing himself quickly to his feet he took off again. Scott watched his friend run, panting weakly against the wall. They were still ten minutes from the hotel; Isaac had to get there before it was too late.

He lifted his inhaler again.

 

* * *

 

Stiles pulled away slowly, still dazed from their kiss, his FIRST kiss. His lips slightly partied, cheeks flushed he stared at Derek in awe as the older boy looked away to at the gathering students. Derek was snatched by his arm by someone tugging him to stand while Stiles was pulled on his own. Erica was tugging his arm laughing, pushing him happily towards the dance floor.

He looked back over to Derek confused, not understanding why they needed to dance. He wanted to sit back down and kiss his date again, he wanted to get lost in those soft presses and taste of his tongue. Yet there he was, standing in the middle of the whole senior class as they laughed and clapped around him, wait…

Suddenly he froze.

Everyone was laughing at him. Quickly he snatched Dereks arm, panic starting to rise, what’s going on? Looking over, he was going to ask but when he looked to his date, he saw the older boy press his lips as a crown sat on top of his head.

A big crown.

“Oh my god you got crowned king.”

Derek glared at Stiles for a moment before nodding over to the other side, “Yeah well Guess who’s my queen.” Following the direction, Lydia stood before him with a smirk on her face and the diamond crown in her hair. Stiles looked at her confused for a moment before he pointed at her chest. “…You won Prom Queen?”

Lydia rolled her eyes before looking over to Derek. “That must have been some kiss if Stiles didn’t hear the announcement.”

Stiles sputtered for a moment but Lydia just held up another crown, a second crown that looked exactly like the one that sat top of Derek’s head, just this one was smaller. “You’re Prom Queen Idiot.” With wide eyes, Stiles watched as Lydia lifted the crown and gently placed it a top his head.

Stiles won?

Reaching up he touched the crown, moving it a little, feeling the light weight. “I won?” He asked softly, “We won?!” Suddenly his body was in panic mode. He looked around at all the seniors face, watching them clap and some even talked to one another but they were around him, watching him.

He didn’t know what to do.

“Now that we have our Prom Kings, let’s start this off with the royal dance! Derek, if you would.”

Suddenly the students began to drift away, spreading out to the edges of the dance floor, leaving only those two behind. They had the whole floor, they would have to dance in front of everyone, be watched by them. Stiles began to shake.

 _Heart beats fast_  
Colors and promises  
How to be brave?

“We don’t have to.” Dereks words whispered into his ear over the soft music that began to play. Looking back, Derek could see his fear, could see how much this was affecting him, being the main focus of everyone attention. “Just say the word Stiles.”

“I’m scared. “Stiles confused weakly, hands twisting at the edges of his coat. “I won and I just… I can’t help but feel this is a prank, which they are making fun of me all over again.” Strong hands cupped his face and Stiles couldn’t help but close his eyes tightly, nuzzling into those palms. He was scared, he wanted so badly to be accepted, for everyone to treat him normally and laugh with him as appose to at him and now, and here he was given the smallest of chances, he couldn’t keep himself from retreating, from hiding back in the shadows of doubt and his low self esteem. No one liked him so how could he have won?

_How can I love when I'm afraid to fall?_

“Then lets go.” Taking a few steps, Derek reached back and offered his hand. He didn’t want Stiles to feel forced, he didn’t want to push Stiles in any direction he was unsure to go. He was there to follow, to protect Stiles. He was going to make sure Stiles was safe and if that meant ruining this prom and Lydias idea of a perfect dance. So be it.

_But watching you stand alone,_

Stiles stared at Dereks hand.

Derek was offering him an out, he was willing to throw down their crowns and walk away from this dance floor, from this prom all for the sake of Stiles feelings. Stiles rubbed his face quickly at the threat of tears, his emotions getting the best of him. This… This is what he wanted; this was the Derek he dreamed about, the Derek he watched from afar when his sisters came to visit. Derek was placing him before anyone else’s and Stiles.

Stiles began to smile.

_All of my doubt suddenly goes away somehow._

_‘Don’t look at them’_ Erica had told him. Erica didn’t go to this school, she didn’t know anyone in this room but she walked in without a care. She danced on the floor without a thought to others and spoke her mind to anyone who listened and she did it all happily. Stiles truly believed she did it because she had Boyd behind her, she had someone who loved her for herself and accepted her no matter the faults, no matter the cracks on the surface and maybe, that’s what made Erica so brave.

Stiles wanted that. He wanted to be brave for Derek.

_One step closer_

“Derek.” Reaching out slowly, his fingers hovered just above his palm, tracing his wrist lightly, “Wait… You still owe me a dance…”

Dereks brows shot up in shock. Stiles bit his lower lip shyly, keeping his eyes pinned on Dereks chest, he didn’t look at anyone else, he didn’t want to look at anyone else but he shivered in fear none a less. Stiles wanted to do this, he wanted to be the prom kings of the senior class of 2014 with Derek and the older boy couldn’t help but chuckle.

“I was really hoping you say we can go.” He sighed, taking Stiles hand. “If not for your sake by my own.”

Stiles just laughed out, tugging Derek close til they were toe to toe. “I think.” He began, free hand reaching up to pull Dereks crown forward. “You make a handsome King.”

Derek let out a huff, reaching with his free hand to push the crown back in place. “Shut up.”

_I have died every day waiting for you  
Darling, don't be afraid I have loved you_

“Lets get this over with.” Stiles just smiled at Derek fake surrender. Derek rose Stiles hand, placing it gently upon his shoulder. “Follow my lead.” Stiles nodded and Derek took his free hand, holding it gently, tenderly as he placed his other on his hip. Stiles gulped at the touch, breath hitching when he was pulled closer, their chests pressed firmly together. If it wasn’t for the coat Stiles was sure Derek could feel his heart race. Listening to the beats, Derek began to sway, one way then another.

Stiles looked over his shoulder for a second, seeing some of the other students sit back down. Others weren’t paying that much attention to them and that made Stiles relax a little more. “Hey.” Stiles snapped his head back up. “Your focus should be on me.”

_For a thousand years  
I'll love you for a thousand more_

Stiles snorted, “Sorry.” Derek rolled his eyes, squeezing Stiles hand lightly before lifting them both up higher. “Spin.”

Stiles looked confused but Derek just pushed his hips to the side causing Stiles to let his shoulder go to spin under both their arms, he ended up to Dereks side, lost to the action. “Derek what are you doing?”

“I thought it was obvious.” Derek stated as he waved his hand for him to come back. “I’m dancing with you. No, don’t walk. Spin back to me.”

“Why?”

“Just trust me on this. Now spin.”

_Time stands still  
Beauty in all she is_

With a deep sigh, Stiles began to spin inward, Deresk hand keeping hold of one of his hands, letting that arm wrap around the front of him. He spun, stopping when his back pressed into Dereks chest. There, Derek took his other hand and held him tightly, both their arms crossed over one another, pressing their bodies tighter together. From there they swayed once again, this time with Derek resting his chin on Stiles shoulders.

“I like holding you.”

Stiles ducked his head to press his cheek against Dereks own, fingers worming their way into the gaps, lacing them together to squeeze tight.

“.. I like you.”

_I will be brave_

Closing his eyes, Derek squeezed him tightly for a second, feeling Stiles breath hitch out. In the silence of his mind, over the music the Dj played, over soft sighs that left Stiles lips, Derek began to hear something.

Something he hasn’t heard in a long time.

Removing his head from Stiles shoulders, he tug one hand free in order to spin Stiles back around. What greeted him made the dam in his mind shatter. Suddenly, the silence was gone, the doubt and pain of building that wall disappeared at Stiles smiling face turning those hallow echoes he turned away from into solid forms, reaching into his ears and soul.

_I will not let anything take away  
What's standing in front of me_

“I hear it.”

Stiles tilted his head but Derek couldn’t help but stare at him in shock. They stopped dancing; Derek couldn’t bring himself to move in fear that the spell would be broken.

“Derek?”

Reaching up, trembling fingers touched Stiles cheeks, tracing along under his eyes to his nose. His chest was filling with warmth of delight and Derek couldn’t keep himself composed. With a broken laugh, he pressed forward and kissed him, he poured what he was feeling, what he was drowning in to Stiles, wanting him to hear it too, wanting him to understand.

“I hear it.”

_Every breath  
Every hour has come to this_

Stiles broke the kiss, hands squeezing Dereks wrists. “Music?” Derek just laughed again, pressing their forwards together; his fingers reaching back to curl into his hair, his crown toppling to the floor. “I hear it.” Derek confessed again, “Your song.” Closing his eyes, Derek couldn’t stop himself, he had always been afraid, always pushed those notes away, learned to ignore the melodies when Paige tossed his music away. He claimed his music was not good enough, he could never follow his dream and compose his own again, Never let the world hear what he hears, to understand what he see’s. He wanted to take people on a journey on the strings of his violin and give them a peek into his world and in his depression; he closed the door on it.

And now Stiles busted that door down without even knocking.

Letting his hair go, Derek wrapped his arms around his waist and picked him up causing the boy to yell out and snatch his shoulders. He spun on the dance floor happily, holding Stiles so tightly, watching him yell out and look down at him in confusion. Stiles would never understand what he has done, never fully accept without lifting a finger he gave Derek something he long ago lost.

_One step closer_

Losing his grip, he let Stiles slide down but didn’t let him touch the floor. No, he wanted to hold him a little longer, he didn’t want the music to stop. Not until he memorized every note.

“Derek, what’s gotten into you!?”

“You remember the song I composed for Paige?” Stiles nodded.

“After she left… I couldn’t hear the music, my music.” Derek squeezed his back tightly, nose touching Stiles own. “I gave up, I didn’t want to hear it. I didn’t want to be reminded what my music lacked.” Settling Stiles to his feet, Derek looked at him unable to finish his words. How could he say it? How could he tell Stiles that his muse came back to life and all because of his smile?

Stiles face was blank but suddenly it dawned on him. A gasp and Stiles grabbed Dereks face, palms brushing against his jaw line. “Oh my god, Derek are you kidding me?” Derek just kept smiling and with a yell of his own Stiles wrapped his arms around his neck. “This is amazing! I can’t believe, I’m so happy for you! Wait, does this mean I get a song?” Stiles began to hop in front of him with excitement. “You said ‘your song’ oh god, Derek I love it. I havn’t even heard it but I love it already!”

Surging forward, he pressed their lips together. They kissed, stopping to laugh at one another but always returning, always joining back together; ignoring the spot light on them and the flashing lights of cameras. They drank from each other and held tight, everyone just faded away. Right there on the dance floor what was blooming between them was all that mattered.

So together, they swayed to the music that played in Derek’s mind.

Side to side.

_And all along I believed I would find you_   
_Time has brought your heart to me_   
_I have loved you for a thousand years_   
_I'll love you for a thousand more_   
  
_One step closer_   
_One step closer_


	26. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was something so small, something no one would never really notice but the color. It was the color that caught Dereks attention. Looking down, he searched for that fallen spot, maybe it was water? It seemed like such but why would water be there of all places? Maybe it was a trick of the light or even one of the foil pieces got bunched up. Kicking one of the many balloons to the side, his eyes raked along and right there, right between them, a single red small splat laid.

There were sounds of cooing when Stiles and Derek broke apart. Looking out into the crowed, Stiles no longer felt scared. He greeted the senior’s faces with his own smiling. At that moment, he was happy and felt like he belonged.

“As cute as that was.” Lydias voice rang out from the speakers as she appeared at their side. Microphone in hand, she pushed both boys towards the stage. “Its time to get your photo taken, Derek get your crown back on, it better not be broken or so help me Hale.”

Stiles couldn’t keep back his joy as Derek bent down to swipe the object, handing it over to Stiles, letting him slip it back upon his head.

“You ready?”

Looking back out into the sea of faces, Stiles answered while grasping his hand. “Yes.”

If you could describe the scene, Stiles would tell you it was like a dream. Derek began to lead him towards the stage, his face graced with a small smile that made Stiles heart flutter. Behind him students followed, clapping for them. Once on the stage, the spotlights shined on and Stiles just laughed out, lifting his arm to wave. They cheered for him, they laughed for him and Derek. Tonight was a night he would never forget; tonight was a night that would change his life.

All thanks to the bad boy of the school who was just as shy and haunted as Stiles himself.

Grasping Dereks hand tightly, he looked with eyes shining bright, cheeks pinching from his grin but he didn’t care. He was happy and at long last, he felt loved. Derek looked back and together, they raised their joined hands, letting the sounds of the senior body ring out louder, letting them watch as they clapped and hooted, as the school photographer got into place. Derek pulled Stiles hand over, brushing his knuckles to his lips as the cameras flashed. The shy duck Stiles gave at such a display made Dereks chest squeeze and the music sing louder. He could not let this boy go.

“Lets hear it one last time!” Lydia cried out, “To our Prom Kings!”

Stiles ducked his head down to laugh in his free hand when Derek rolled his eyes, one of the prom staffers putting a sliver scepter in his hand. He looked so ridicules Stiles couldn’t help but laugh at him but in a loving way.

Looking out to the crowed one last time, he noticed Ms. Morrell rushing towards the stage, her arm waving in the air. Stiles waved back at her, shouting out her name while pointing at his crown. She must be so beside herself to see him win, she was the one who told him to come. That maybe Derek really did care for him. She had been right.

Tugging Dereks hand, he lifted it up to press his cheek against his knuckles, glancing up to watch Derek raise his free arm up to block the falling balloons. Someone must of pulled the cord because soon the stage was covered in floating stars and sliver balloons, Stiles laughed out as Derek began to bat the objects away, smacking them into the crowed where the others began to toss them playfully into the air.

 

* * *

 

“Pull it now!”

Jackson gripped the rope, watching as Stiles stood there. Now was the time, everything he planned, everything he set up was coming to an end. He would remind that loser who was boss and send him back home where he belonged. He just had to pull the rope.

Pull it!

  

* * *

 

 

It was a small red drop of all things.

As Stiles slapped any balloon that floated his way, Derek took a moment to watch him, to admire the teen when something small fell past his eye view and hit the floor.

It was something so small, something no one would never really notice but the color. It was the color that caught Dereks attention. Looking down, he searched for that fallen spot, maybe it was water? It seemed like such but why would water be there of all places? Maybe it was a trick of the light or even one of the foil pieces got bunched up. Kicking one of the many balloons to the side, his eyes raked along and right there, right between them, a single red small splat laid.

Why? This didn’t make sense. Moving his eyes upward, he trailed up along Stiles form, watching him hoping in place, arms raised up as he fed off the energy of the room. He wasn’t paying attention to Derek, he didn’t notice anything besides what was before him. Upward Derek kept glancing, letting his eyes trail up over the spot lights and into the nets that hung above their heads. There, he noticed it.

Something sliver, something out of place.

A bucket.

With wide eyes, he noticed a trail of red leading over the edge of the rim, sliding down along the sides until it fell off, landing right behind Stile.

“Stiles!”

 

* * *

 

“Jackson!” Kate hissed, her hands snatched his own quickly, snapping him out of his thoughts.

“Shut up.” Jackson whispered quickly, trying to remove his hands but Kate just held tighter, her nails sinking into his knuckles making him flinch. Jackson had stood there and watched the whole thing,. He felt.. He felt guilty. “What are we doing?’ Jackson questioned, looking over his shoulder at Kate. She just snarled at him, red lips pulled back, “We’re getting even. You said it yourself, he’s a freak. He doesn’t belong here. Now pull the damn rope.”

“Kate.”

“Jackson you sent out that e-mail. You talked a big game and now everything is in place and you want to just LEAVE?”

“I’ll get expelled!” He snapped, finally realizing the feeling boiling inside. This prank, if they found out it was him then his career would be jeopardized! His father would kill him! “This is stupid; I have better things to do then obsessed over this bastard!”

“Oh no you don’t.” Kate spat, pushing him into the railing, she planted one leg between his own, trapping him in place. Jackson tried to move but her knee pressed into his groin and the pressure made him rise up to his toes.

“You’re not getting cold feet on me.”

Jacksons breath hitched when Kate laughed out, “We’re going to paint them both red!” And with a yank, she pulled both their hands, yanking the rope and Jackson watched with wide eyes, feeling the cold pool of sudden despair as the bucket turned over, the thick red liquid spilling.

“Shit..”

 

* * *

 

 Ms. Morrell couldn’t help but smile. When she counted the votes she was shocked that Stiles had won, a small part of her had a bad feeling, felt uneasy and made her hold onto the results a little longer but when time came. She took the chance and put faith in the answer and held the paper over. The outcome?

It was better then what she expected and for that she was happy. Stiles looked better then ever up on that stage and Derek, he making good on his promises. Crossing her arms, she enjoyed the scene; not taking notice to rushing feet and panting body pass by.

Snapping her focus, sending her gaze to the side she watched Isaac make his way to the crowed, his face twisted in panic. She knew that student, junior, always hanged with Scott McCall. What was he doing here? Removing herself from the wall, she went after him, worming her way after him as he pushed and squeezed into the dancing bodies. When she was close enough, she snatched his arm tightly, spinning him around. At this point they were in the middle of the students, voices ringing loud enough that she had to lean closer and shout into his ear.

“What are you doing here?”

“We have to get Stiles!”

Ms. Morrell body shot up right at the statement, she watched Isaac stand there shaking, face covered in sweat, blond curls sticking to every part of his skin, he breathed as if he ran none stop. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know but Jackson is going to do something!” She didn’t need to hear any more, grabbing his shoulder she pushed him towards the side, “Go! I’ll get Stiles, we’ll meet you outside and we’ll figure this out.” Isaac began to protest but the glare she sent his way made Isaac gulp and nod in agreement. The second he turned she rushed forward, waving her arm into the air to get Stiles attention, her voice yelling out to get him to move, get him off the stage.

“Stiles!!”

 

* * *

  

Derek pushed him.

Stiles gasped in shock, his feet lifting off the floor. One second he was standing in the spotlight, the next Derek had gotten behind him and pushed forward, sending Stiles sailing. His voice ripped out in a yell as he turned, body falling backwards to the crowed, over the edge of the stage. He reached back for Derek, his face asking why but all he saw was Derek arms out towards him. It was all in slow motion to him, Stiles was too confused, to shock to do anything else but watch as Derek yelled his name, watch as Derek took another step towards him, to join him when something red blocked his vision.

Something red that hit Derek hard, sending him to the ground.

The ground Stiles stood moments before.

_“DEREK!!”_


	27. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With a swing of his arm, bringing his hand inward, the doors shut before them and locked itself tight.
> 
> That’s when they began to scream.

 

The music scratched to a stop, voices hushed. All that was left was the creaking of the bucket that swung over head. Arms held Stiles up from where he fell, hands keeping him from the floor but he pulled away, wide eyes staring at Derek as he pushed himself unsteadily to his hands and knees. Stiles screamed his name again, quick to grab the stage and climb over, wanting to make sure he was alright.

What was on him?

Resting back on his heels, Derek held his hands up, the rotten scent making his stomach roll. Oh god, was this blood? His body began to shake at the texture, teeth clenched as he hissed his breath. He felt it, it was everywhere. The blood was sticking to his clothes, pressing into his flesh; his hair was caked and heavy, dripping it down his face into his eyes. He tried to wipe it off but more kept falling, a puddle forming under him. He was completely covered.

Lifting his head up, he watched Stiles climb over towards him, but before he could get touch the puddle, Derek put his hand out. “I’m okay!” It made Stiles pause just on the outside as Derek began to pant. “I’m okay… Just don’t, I think its blood.”

“Blood?”

Stiles looked at the floor, watching the thick liquid begin to seep out, as if reaching for him. Why? How could this have happened?

“Holy shit, did you see that?!”

“I thought Stiles was suppose to be dunked, the fuck man?!”

“Well isn’t that just cute, Derek saved the day!”

“Look at him! He’s like a wild animal!”

Stiles looked back out into the crowed where the lights were turned on, casting every inch of the room in detail and as if from thin air, they began to appear. Stiles shook his head, his throat tightening up as the voice began to grow, the faces coming clearer.

“Derek the wolf man! Howl for us!”

“That really DOES make Stiles his bitch then!”

“Wolf man!”

“WOLF MAN AND HIS BITCH!”

Covering his ears, Stiles began to panic, tears swelling in his eyes. They were there, his bullies. They had been hiding the whole time, watching him, laughing at him and now they were mocking Derek. They laughed out and pushed one another, bodies dirty from the field and rough housing but their faces all smiled, they pointed and laughed and soon. Others began to join.

Stiles looked and one by one, the seniors began to join, some covering their mouth to giggle, others beginning to throw their hands up in a high five. They all were in on it. Spilling tears fell down his face as he sobbed, he couldn’t breath, he couldn’t move. His feet were rooted to the ground. Why couldn’t they leave him alone?! Derek had nothing to do with this! In his panic, Derek called out his name, pushing himself stand fully, slipping a little from the ground but he reached out for, waving at him.

“Stiles don’t look at them.” He coughed out, spitting the trails of blood to the ground, the taste making him gag. “We need to leave.”

“D-Derek.” He sobbed but the older boy just took a step closer, careful to not slip. “Stiles it’s okay. We need to go.”

Sniffing, he reached out his shaking hand, letting Derek grasp it tightly, the feel of blood making his skin crawl but for Dereks he held on tighter. Soon both his hands were holding Dereks, helping him slowly make it out from the growing puddle. The whole time, Dereks voice kept whispering.

“Don’t listen. Just focus on me.”

Stiles kept nodding, trying to draw the laughter out, trying to hold onto his panic attack til he was away from them. One more step, just one more step and Derek was clear from the mess and they could leave. Stiles never let his eyes stray, watched as Derek sputtered and cursed with every stumble he made. He was just one step away.

**_“WATCH OUT!”_ **

Derek was gone.

Stiles’s breath was stuck in his throat, staring at the empty air with only his blood covered hands shaking in sight.

There was no more laughter after that.

Stiles heart began to race wildly, lips parted in dismay. Wet eyes moved down from the empty air to the floor.

A soft rattle and a tap.

An empty blood stain bucket rolled, resting by Dereks foot.

The very bucket that covered Derek in nothing but red and now, the same bucket that struck him.

“Derek…?”

Stiles body went limp, falling to his knees. “Derek?” He whispered again, this time, he reached out, touching the older boys face. He lifted Derek head from the puddle, wiping the blood that caked one side of his face, letting out soft whimpers when he saw empty eyes, eyes that once held a distant warmth now staring dully out into the crowed.

“DEREK!”

With a scream Stiles gathered him into his arms, hands searching, patting everything he could touch. He screamed burying his face into Dereks throat. There was so much blood; he didn’t know what to do. He shouted his name, trying to get a responds and all he got was silence, dead weight against his arms and dark eyes staring into his own.

They **killed** him.

“Stiles let me se-“

A pair of hands touched him and like a branch under weight.

He snapped.

_“DON’T TOUCH HIM!”_

Ms. Morrell went flying across the stage with a scream, knocking into the crowed below. Students gasped and backed away, staring at the fallen teacher. With eyes down, Stiles touched Derek face, trembling fingers tracing along his cheek before finally laying him gently to the side. All awhile Stiles laid him down, the students began to leave, the junior lacrosse team whom just minutes before were so happy to take part in tonight's event suddenly felt they needed to leave and Stiles,

Well he couldn’t have that.

Flicking his eyes up, he looked out into the room, he reached his arm out to them, flexing his fingers slowly before squeezing them into a tight fist.

With a swing of his arm, bringing his hand inward, the doors shut before them and locked itself tight.

That’s when they began to scream.

 

* * *

  

“What the fuck?”

Jackson sat stunned; the doors had slammed on their own when they ran out. Peering out the windows of the doors, other students slammed into the surface crying for help, hands tugging at the handles to open. Jackson got up and rushed away, following the clicking heels of Kate as she pushed past on lookers. Jackson squeezed his eyes tightly, trying to ignore the screaming that echoed behind him as he ran out the convention doors into the night.

 

* * *

 

Lydia covered her mouth to keep from screaming as she watched the horror unfold. The doors were locked, no matter how many bodies pushed they would not budge. As panic began to raise, students started to push one another, running to one door to the next, the room had no windows.

No other escape.

There was a loud cracking sound and across from Lydia she pressed herself into the wall as dividers came out on their own, tall metal slabs the convention used to split the room in two for multiple events, the slabs shot out like a bullet, smacking into any student that was in its way, sending one body after another flying. A boy hit the table next to Lydia, causing her to dive out of the way. When she looked up, she couldn’t cover the scream this time, her eyes wide in terror as the boy stared back at her gasping for breath, blood dripping down his jaw. She shook her head when he finally stopped moving, hands covering her face as she yelled out for help.

 

* * *

 

 

Ms. Morrell pushed herself to stand back up, hissing at her right leg. The fall did something to her, there was no blood but it felt like the bone snapped. She limped towards the closet item to hold which turned out to be the stage, taking the weight off the strain. Looking out, she could not understand the scene, the lights of the room started to flicker and hiss out its power until they blew, sparks flying across the air. There were so many that the decorations were set aflame, burning fast and bright along the walls. Students were forced away from the doors in order to not be burned, all moving towards the center of the room. Tables were turned over, one student after another pushing one another to the ground, stepping on them, running over others in their hast to get out.

A sound rang over the screams, piercing their ears. The fire alarm!

Over head the sprinklers were set off; raining down on them to trying and tam the flames, trying to calm the panic but it was no use. Looking over her shoulder, she stared at Stiles, the only person who stood still. He watched the chaos without flinching, his eyes bleeding black in the flames that roared around him. As the water fell, he was not soaked; no it was like the water was bouncing off around him, an invisible barrier protecting him.

Was Stiles doing this?

She called out his name but he just kept watching, every now and then his fingers that rested at his side twitched, causing a new wave of screaming to excel another notch. What was she going to do?

What were they going to do?


	28. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bringing Derek’s body closer, Stiles touched his slack face softly, wiping the few drops of blood that trailed down his parted lips, palms cradling his relaxed face happily, thumbs caressing those delightful cheekbones.
> 
> This was perfect.

Issac hit the ground with a hiss, a flare of hot pain spread across his rib cage. He scurried across the floor, taking himself away from the rushing feet, heels threatening to sink into his legs as they passed by. His eyes looked wildly, the flames surrounding the building, the heat uncontrolled. He almost made it out of the room when the doors slammed, almost catching his fingertips. In the panic he was pushed out of the way, tossed like a rag doll so others could beat against the locked door. Crawling across the ground, he tried to find shelter, an open area away from the panic to figure things out, to find another way out. In his scurry, his back hit something solid causing a voice to bark down.

“Back off!”

Isaac turned to find Boyds body hunched over, arms spread on the ground, like an attacking dog. Back was arched and feet were planted apart, Issac swore he looked like some feral animal, ready to strike down anything that approached. His suit coat was ripped at his right shoulder, blood trailing down his nose, dripping off his chin in slow droplets. He was still, only his shoulders moving with his deep breaths, Issac stared into his dark eyes before he noticed what Boyd was protecting, what he was using his body to shield.

A young blond was moving uncontrolled on the floor, her legs stiff, arms squeezing tight to her chest. Her head thrashing, striking the ground as her body gave into tight spasms. Issac frowned, brows knitted together in worry. “What’s wrong with her?”

Boyd panted deeply, his fingers twitching every time a noise lifted from the girls lips making him clench his teeth, he looked back down at Erica, his face breaking from his deadly glare to pain. His hands, bruised and cut grabbed her pale shoulders, trying to keep her from rocking into the broken wood that surrounded them.

“She has epilepsy." Boyd breathed, his face twisted into despair as he tried to keep her from moving too far, touching her sweat stained face as her lips parted in painful gasps.

“Can we move her?”

Boyd shook his head with pinched lips. “Not when she’s like this.”

Isaac looked up, flinching when water began to fall from the sprinklers ahead. “We have to get out of here.” Boyd snapped at the young boy, nails sinking into Ericas arms making her arch off the ground, hands coming out to strike Boyds chest before slapping back to her own. “How?!” Boyd demanded, “The doors are locked, we can’t get out!” His voice creaked; shaking his head he pulled Erica closer, shaking hands touching her tangled curls. “I was supposed to watch out for her.” He coughed; the smoke from the flames was getting thick, even in the spray. “I promised her parents! I was going to keep her safe.”

Isaac bowed his head, his chest tightening, What were they going to do? Closing his eyes tighten, his hands covering his face, his mind raced, his heart plummeted. Was this how he was going to die? Burnt to death? Squeaking footsteps made Isaac jerk up and with a yell, he reached out. “Look out!” Boyd looked up with wide eyes as he watched a crowed of students rush at them, the floors wet and sleek, heels slipping, bodies colliding into one another. They were going to run right on them. Isaac jerked to stand but when he looked back, he just watched Boyd throw himself on top of Erica again, his body stiff in a brace, ready to take the impact, to take the heels, the steps, the crashing bodies all to protect her. Without a second thought, Isaac lunged and covered Boyds upper half, putting himself in the way to protect them both.

 _‘Hurry Scott.’_ Echoed in Isaac mind before the first foot slammed into his spine, ripping a scream from his throat.

 

* * *

 

Soft piano played in his ears and Stiles,

He smiled.

With Slow movements he moved with the melody, black eyes looking out in the haze of chaos, his very own entertainment of the night. Lifting his hands, they drifted in the air, rolling his wrists, fingers beckoning, laughing to himself when random chairs slide across the floor and struck moving bodies, bright red colors splattering across his threshold, spreading for him, baring its true colors to his eyes and Stiles,

He smiled.

Rolling his head to the side, he looked over his shoulder, eyes tracing along the body of his date that laid so still, clothes coated in the same color that seeped on the floor. Closing his eyes, he glanced up to the flames that licked across the curtains, dancing, reaching for Dereks body and Stiles glared, blowing softly into the air making the flames whip away, gathering back into the ceiling.

_Don’t touch him._

Still the music played and Stiles hummed softly, his body felt so numb, like he was floating within the air, his feet hovering from the ground and he sighed into it, he didn’t want this feeling to leave, the emptiness like a cool stream washing over his skin. With a turn, he began to leave the stage, the sounds of his footsteps keeping in time to the beat within his mind. As he moved, Dereks body began to shift, back lifting, peeling away from the puddle. Down the steps Stiles touched the railing, looking out at the dance floor with a grin, watching twirling dresses, bight blues and purples lighting up like fireworks as flames licked at the fabrics, crackling in sparks, feet moving to their own dance as they twirled faster and faster, trying to tame the beast but Stiles just laughed, the numbness whispering the into his ear, the delight to see dancers fall, hit the ground with a thud, adding to the rich red colors.

One step, Stiles began to dance with them, his feet moving gracefully around the limbs, black shoes using the blood to spin him gracefully around, his hands reaching out for his date who hovered behind him. Stiles gently brushed the matted black hair, pushing Derek to stand back up straight, arms limp at the sides. Stiles placed his hands on Dereks shoulders, purring at the cold touch of ruined coat, staining his fingers and together, they twirled. Dereks feet never touching the wet floor just following the directions Stiles made, the puddles of blood and water crawling away from him, giving him a clear path to dance, to enjoy the moment to his fullest. Bringing Derek’s body closer, Stiles touched his slack face softly, wiping the few drops of blood that trailed down his parted lips, palms cradling his relaxed face happily, thumbs caressing those delightful cheekbones.

This was perfect.

With a chuckle, Stiles removed his touch to continue on, making his way towards one of the doors to leave, to take Derek away and place them somewhere safe, some place no one could touch them, laugh at them, and hurt them ever again. With a tsk, he looked at the fallen tables, paper napkins littering the wet floor, so messy, so distracting. With a glare, his eyes felt the pulse, his skin tightening as the tables shot back, cracking against the walls, breaking apart in the air. He took a step into the clearing but came to a jerky stop when he noticed a group of bodies on the floor.

Frowning, Stiles tilted his head, trying to make since at what he was seeing, his eyes trying to piece the clothes, the hair. With a single finger, he waved to the right, rolling the body onto its back.

A movement of blond curls caught his attention, like a electrical jolt he jumped from his spot. The numbness was starting to seep away, the music fading out, replaced by the roar of flames, yet through it all, a single sound cracked something inside him, sending him back to reality.

A pained gasp.

Pressure griped in his mind making Stile yell out, fingers curling into his hair, trying to release the hold, trying to pull the binds that got tighter and tighter. His knees smacked the ground, his eyes washing away the fog to let him finally see, let him finally look at the noise that broke into his dream like state.

Erica laid limp before him panting, hands clenching helplessly to the sleeve of an arm that rested over her chest. Tears fell down her eyes as she stared at the ceiling, trembling lips parting to let out another painful gasp before choking out a sob, body jerking in aftershocks. Beside her Boyd laid, blood seeping into the back of his shirt, face resting into her curls but he didn’t move, his eyes only stared across the floor, not giving any notice to the whimpers and light tugs Erica gave his arm. She was sobbing to herself, her voice breaking as she tried to call his name but Boyd just stayed quiet.

“How?”

Another pulse, a knife to his mind Stiles shot back, his spine striking Dereks knees. Stiles looked up at the hovering body, seeing Derek held like a lifeless puppet. Stiles let out a yell, hands trembling. What was going on?! Looking around, his eyes got wider at the sight, across the room he saw a girl on the floor, right arm stretched out, gripping the table cloth she laid beside, head buried in her other arm, red tangled curls growing shorter from the flames that licked around her body.

_“Nothing is hopeless. Just annoying.”_

“Lydia!” Scrambling to his feet, he rushed forward, hands reaching out to grab her, the flames whipped at his flesh, burning his fingertips making him cry out but he pulled her away from the heat, noticing the pantyhose she wore burning into her flesh, the flames melting them.

_“You have my vote Stiles.”_

“Lydia!” He cupped her face, shaking her to get any kind of attention. A bruise was forming at the corner of her jaw, a blow that most likely knocked her out cold. Heat scorched along his side and Stiles let out a scream, his eyes bleeding black at the pain. With a scream, his body shot away from the area, arms locking around Lydias limp form.

Coming to a stop, he hissed out, his energy draining but his heart kept racing. With a shake of his head, he growled at the voices that began to whisper into his mind, echoing into his ears. Letting her body go, he yelled out, hands quick to cover his ears. Make them stop! Make them stop!

_“This means you, my little cutie, are going to be my new dance partner.”_

_“We’ll ask her for forgiveness.”_

_“look for yourself; it’s very becoming of you.”_

_“And those boys who hurt you, they have been given detention for their actions.”_

Stiles jerked his head up. Ms. Morrell? He searched around, her voice echoing to him, where was she? What has he done to her?

_“I knew that kind of smile so I wanted to come by and see it myself!”_

_“They will laugh at you!”_

_“I’M TAKING STILES TO PROM.”_

_“Stiles!!”_

_“Just say polo, that’s all you have to do.”_

_“Stiles don’t look at them.”_

Stiles hiccupped in a sob.

_“I bet he takes it like a bitch!”_

_“Call him and tell him you’re not going.”_

_“Take it!”_

_“Really Bilinski? What are you, fourteen?”_

_“Take it!”_

_“I’m scared.”_

_“Take it!”_

_“I hear it.”_

_“They.Will.Laugh.”_

_“Your song.”_

**_“DEREK!!”_ **

Throwing his head back, Stiles screamed.


	29. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Da-d” Stiles huffed. “Y-You were right.” Closing his eyes tightly, his knees began to buckle, sinking to the floor and John followed, settling them both down. Stiles shook his head, his hands releasing his shirt to cover his own face. “I-it was a prank, a-all of it. They l-laughed at me.”

 

It was like someone sat him down and turned on a movie. A pair of coke bottle sized glasses placed in front of his eyes making the scene slow down and fuzzy, watching in confusion as the events played out, being allowed to only watch the actions. He didn’t feel anything, not the heat, not the sorrow, not even the lift of his hand when the outer wall of the convention came crashing down with a snap.

Like tunnel vision, everything around him was in black the only thing he could see was the carpet floor under him, not darkness of the night and sparks of flames littering the ground. He wanted to remove the ear plugs that must have been in his ears for he barely heard any sounds, everything was muffled, dimmed. He was moving forward, removing himself from the crumbling building, letting the fresh air blow the smell of burning flesh away.

He was only given a quick glimpse of the area, seeing bodies spread out, lifeless in the streets, he wanted to check them, to make sure they were breathing but his vision snapped back to the darkness of the night and his feet moved forward, he cried for them to go back, they had to call for help, had to make sure everyone else got out but his feet, they kept moving, taking him away from the scene, away from the growing sirens and the burning wood. He saw no one on his walk; only the flash of lights of passing cars that sped by. Where was he going? Where was his feet taking him too? He screamed in his mind but outside, his face was relaxed, eyes dimmed as they stared out, arms limp at his sides.

Stiles didn’t know how long he struggled, how long he tried to get back control, his voice echoing within his mind, begging to be released, it was like his power took control and finally he grew tired, falling into the silence that surrounded him and gave into the fog. When Stiles stopped fighting, he was given back his control of his sight, he looked and noticed he stood before his house. Stiles had walked from the convention center all the way back home, that had to be an hour or two at most. While he tried to figure out why, his body pressed forward, reaching out to touch the railing of the steps, staining the white chipped paint red.

He was home.

Pushing the front door open, Stiles turned his head, gathering everything he could see. The house was dark and cold, motionless and empty. His father, whom he left stuck to one of the chairs in the kitchen was missing. He wanted to call out for him but his lips refused to move, no, his body just closed the door and walked silently inside, footsteps tapping lightly onto the steps of the stairs, carrying him up to the second floor.

His eyes searched around, taking in every corner and room, trying to see if he could find his father, even a mere outline of his shadow. He was given nothing but an empty home. With a turn, his body pushed his bathroom door open and flicked the lights on, letting Stile see himself, and what he saw finally made his face crack and a broken cry leave his throat.

He was a monster.

Trembling hands he reached up to his face, his pale skin dirty with ash and sweat, splatters of red marrying the right side of his face. He looked crazy, his eyes wide and scared when he noticed his hands, trembling and rising, showing him the blood that coated the skin. Under his nails, in the crease of his knuckles, all the way down to his sleeves he was stained and with a shaky breath, he finally got control of his body. Turning the handle on the sink, he ripped his vest off quickly, tears falling from his eyes as he struggled with his dress shirt, buttons flying across the ground when he ripped it off. He need to get the blood off, he needed to get it off! Steam began to rise from the sink and with a hiss and stuck his hands under the hot water, he scrubbed his flesh with the bar of soap quickly, turning the water into a faded pink but it wasn’t working fast enough. With a shout, he tossed the soap away and began to scratch at his hands, palms, wrists; It wasn’t enough! Soon his nails were raking his face, trying to get the blood away, the remove the feeling of the warm splash of delight he felt before.

He couldn’t get it off; he couldn’t get his skin cleaned.

“Stiles?”

His body spun around and in the doorway, Stiles finally felt relief. With a hiccup, he rushed forward, his arms stretched out, his voice cracking. “Dad!”

A solid built of warm, Stiles clung to him tightly. John shushed him, wrapping his arms around his son. They squeezed him and Stiles, he just sobbed, his heart breaking at the deed he had done but finally able to let it out, finally able to return home to his father. Stiles buried his face closer to his fathers chest, listening to his steady heart beat. He hiccuped and sniffed, fingers digging into the back of Johns shirt and his father, he only held him tighter, strong hands cupping the back of his head, keeping him close. His chin resting on top of his sons crown, John began to move away from the bathroom, taking his son away from the sight of blood.

“Da-d” Stiles huffed. “Y-You were right.” Closing his eyes tightly, his knees began to buckle, sinking to the floor and John followed, settling them both down. Stiles shook his head, his hands releasing his shirt to cover his own face. “I-it was a prank, a-all of it. They l-laughed at me.” He hunched over coughing, “Just like you said.”

John just sighed, reaching out to touch his son’s shoulders. With gentleness Stiles never knew his father processed, John removed his wet hands, bringing them closer to his own chest, letting his lips touch his sons knuckles. “No son.” He whispered, the small act of affection placed Stiles in shock, he could not look away as John reached back out with one hand, touching Stiles face. A flood gate of need crashed inside of Stiles soul, the years he wanted so badly for his father to hold him, to touch him like this, to finally have the love he prayed for, John was giving it to him and Stiles could only sob, pressing his cheek into Johns palm, greedily taking his warmth.

“No son…It was my fault.”

Stiles looked up to his father in confusion but John just stared out into the hallway, one hand squeezing Stiles hands tightly while the other cupped his sons face, drawing him close, his thumb brushing the tears away. Stiles moved with him, falling into his lap, curling himself to get closer, to remove himself from the world. His father would protect him; John would make it all go away.

“I should have ended it, all of it long ago…” Finally John looked down into his sons eyes, he gave a tired smile. “But I was weak.” He confessed, Stiles made a sound of protest but John only shushed him lightly, bringing his son closer, wrapping Stiles arms around his neck so he could wrap his own around his back. Stiles clung to him tightly, pressing his wet cheek into his shoulder. John stroked his back, “I was weak.” John repeated lightly, “I took you home and all I could see were her eyes. She loved you so much.” Stiles squeezed him, “So I let you live… I understand now.” Reaching up, his fingers brushed through his sons hair. “I understand… I’m going to fix it.” Leaning back, he tugged Stiles, pulling his son away far enough to look into his eyes. “It’s going to be alright now.”

Stiles gave a small nod letting John smile at him with ease. “Close your eyes.” Stiles breathed out deeply, hands falling to Johns chest, gripping his shirt weakly. John just nodded to his son, voice whispering out reassuringly, “Trust me.”

With another breath, Stiles closed his eyes, leaning forward to press his forehead against his fathers. He listened to his father’s breath, let himself just for that moment, sink into his fathers protection, into the silence of their home, for that moment Stiles believed everything would be okay, his father would take care of him.

A gunshot shattered that belief.

Pulling away slowly, Stiles opened his eyes wide, staring up at his father in shock. John just smiled down at him still, showing no distraught or worry. Looking down, Stiles gasped in pain as blood began to trail down his chest, pooling into his lap. Tugging John shirt, his body began to shake from the wound, the pain finally taking hold. A bullet wound pulsed in his chest, right under his left collar bone. He gasped, blood spilling out his lips, it was getting hard to breath. Blinking, his face twisted in betrayal when he finally noticed the gun, smoke still swirling away from the barrel.

John had shot him.

Looking back up to his father, John just whispered to him again, “It’s going to be alright.” His hand wiped the blood from Stiles jaw before lifting the gun again, this time placing the barrel under Stiles jaw. In a panic, Stiles closed his eyes, reach back into himself and with a jerk, his body was yanked back before John pulled the trigger, sending the bullet into the ceiling while Stiles body struck the railing of the stair case, crashing down the steps. When Stiles finally hit the floor, his bones protested, his right arm was twisted wrong, broken at his side. Arching his back, Stiles cried out, trying to crawl towards the door, he needed to get away. Another gunshot and the wood next to Stiles head split sending wooden shared flying, some striking Stiles making him roll away, force himself into the kitchen.

Close behind, John followed, walking down the steps carefully. Holding the gun up, John called out his sons name, cocking the gun when he hit the base, following the trail of blood into the kitchen. Lifting the gun up, he walked over the threshold, eyes tracking the floor in the darkness. “Stiles.” He called out, “We’re going to fix this.” One careful step after another, he rounded the table, “Just going to send you back to her. Like I should have done when you were born.”

The overhead lights snapped on, causing John to flinch from the brightness. Once his eyes adjust, his face broke out in shock, his arms lowering a little. Before him every knife, fork, broken plate, anything with a sharp edge was hovering in the air before him, pointing their sharp teeth at him. Glancing down, he finally found his son, pressed against the cabinet doors by the sink, one hand pressing into his bullet wound. Stiles just glared at him, teeth bear as he pushed down the pain. “How..” He huffed, “How.. could you say that?”

John looked back at the floating items, licking his lips unsure. “.. Because..” He began, his face hardening, brows drawn down with his glare. “Because you killed her.”

Lifting the gun back up, he pointed and fired.


	30. Chapter 29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He couldn’t control his powers; he couldn’t keep them at bay.
> 
> He was weak, just like his father said.

“Dad…”

John stood there, eyes locked onto his son. Stiles began to tremble as John lowered his arm, the gun slipping from his fingers. With a huff, a small smile touching his lips, John bent his head down and watched his shirt soak.

With every pulse his heart gave, more of his blood pumped out.

Reaching up, he touched his chest, feeling the warm ooze of his flesh. The bullet had struck John in his chest, ripping throw the muscle, piercing his heart and exiting out his back. Lifting his fingers a little, he looked at the blood with a chuckle before looking back to Stiles, his son who was bent forward in shock, lips trembling.

Closing his eyes, John laughed out lightly his body going into shock. Dropping to his knees, he tilted his head back to the ceiling, gasping out in his laughter, blood trailing down the side of his jaw. Stiles curled in on himself, trying his best to look away from his father as John went down, falling limp to his back. John wheezed out, drawing his son to look back upon him again. A long deep sigh, Johns face turned towards the hall, his chest lowering to a stop.

Stiles sat there stunned, his working hand trembling on the floor.

“..Dad?” He whispered.

He watched his fathers chest, waiting for an inhale, to hear his fathers gasp but nothing, just silence. Stiles throat closed up, making it hard to breath. He called out again, eyes looking to his fathers hand, wanting them to twitch, wanting them to move.

They stayed limp.

“No…no no no.” Stiles shook his head, refusing to believe. He didn’t do this, he didn’t want this! His father tried to shoot him, tried to kill him and Stiles just wanted him to stop! He wanted to knock the gun from his hand, wanted to scare him out of the room so Stiles could get away. He didn’t want to kill him! Yet his power, the aura that rested inside took over, he sat there for that split second in a trance, screaming in his body as his power took over. Stiles was trapped, helpless as he watched his father fire at him and watch his power force the bullet to turn its course and strike John instead.

Doubling over, Stiles cried out, his hand hugging his shoulder, the bullet wound pulsing, the flesh mending itself, his body struggling to push the bullet out but Stiles didn’t care for himself, compare to the grief he was drowning in, his pain was nothing. Curling in on himself, Stiles screamed out, the objects that hovered in the air began to fall, clattering on the floor but Stiles just sobbed. It was too much; everything that happened up this point Stiles could no longer deny. He did this.

His stupid powers did this.

Hyperventilating, Stiles began to weakly scoot his body across the floor, blinking the tears from his eyes. The sharp objects in his way were tossed aside, giving him a path to his father.

He couldn’t control his powers; he couldn’t keep them at bay. He was weak, just like his father said. Pushing his knees against the floor he coughed, his good hand snatching his father’s shirt tail, dragging him slowly to Johns side. He let his powers take control, let the need inside of him, the voice that whispered for revenge, for pain they had given him for years. He let that emotion take control and the after math was overwhelming.

He burnt the convention down.

He killed so many people.

Stiles cried weakly into Johns shoulder.

He let Derek get hurt.

He killed his father.

Reaching up, he wrapped his arm around Johns neck, tugging him closer, burying his face into his throat. Stiles held him tightly, his body jerking violently from his shock.

He did all of this.

He didn’t deserve to live.

Reaching up, trembling fingers touched Johns forehead, tracing down to his nose before stopping at his lips. Stiles traced his fathers face, taking in the feel, the memory before he let himself go, he didn’t deserve to walk away from this.

The objects on the floor began to rattle; soon the cabinets doors popped open and picture frames began to shake. The build rumbled, knocking items off the walls, pushing drawers out from the dressers, clocks off the nightstands, books from the shelves.

Stiles wiped the blood from his fathers jaw, sniffling as the ceiling began to crack above them.

He brought this down on them all.

He never should have been born.

The plasters on the wall began to crumble off, the wooden beams of the foundations beginning to groan as they bent in on themselves. The house was caving in around them.

Brushing his fathers hair one last time, Stiles laid himself down, resting his cheek upon his fathers still chest, closing his eyes to the falling debris and listened to the sound of his home collapse.

Stiles felt his powers reach out, touching every corner of his home and with a deep breath, he clinched his father tight and tugged, breaking the base of the beams, splitting the last support.

The house crumbled.

 

* * *

 

“When was the last time you saw Stiles Stilinski?”

Scott stared at the metal table he sat behind, fingers curling into the frame. “I…I don’t remember.”

The officer before him rose a brow, pulling the empty chair out across from Scott, settling himself down. “I have a report that says you say Stiles walk out from the convention center, you said,” The officer turned the report around, sliding it towards Scott, letting him see the writing. “You saw Stiles walk out from behind the convention center, The area where the wall collapse. Are you now telling me that wasn’t him?”

Scott shook his head, looking away from the report. “ No.. I don’t know. It all happen so fast.” Scott wiped his jaw, looking up at the mirror, knowing people were on the other side watching him, listening to him. “I saw someone walking away, I couldn’t see their face.”

“You swore it was Stiles in the report, you told the office you saw him.”

Scott closed his eyes tightly, “I don’t remember! It could have been Stiles, I was too busy trying to find my friend!” Scott glared at the officer, eyes red from his crying from earlier. “I was trying to see if anyone was alive. There were people dying!” Scott pushed away from the table, walking away to the opposite wall. The office sighed, crossing his arms. “Scott I know this is stressful.”

“They can’t find his body.” Scott hissed, “Half the students inside were burnt to the point of nothing.”

The officer pressed his lips, “It is horrible what happened.” Reaching out, he touched another file, sliding it over to lift the cover, looking down at the pictures of the crime scene, of the charred remains of the convention center. “That’s why it’s important we find out everything we can.” He tapped a photo, “Lydia Martin says Stiles was the one who set fire to the building.” He turned another photo over, watching Scotts shoulder hunch up to his ears. “Erica Reyes also reported that Stiles was the one who locked all the doors, she stated that ‘Stiles just lifted his hands and the doors slammed shut’; all on their own.” The office rose a brow at the teen, Watching Scott press his forehead against the cold surface. “We owe it to those students and teachers who lost their lives that night to find out what happened. Erica deserves to know who did this, Boyds family deserve to know.”

“It was a stupid prank.” Scott turned to look at the officer then, “All this happened because of a stupid prank.” Turning his head away, Scott walked back to the table, taking his seat one again. “I told you everything I know. Before I was taken here, I heard Stiles is dead, what else do you need from me?”

The officer just closed the folder, leaning back in the chair. “That’s the thing Scott.” He muttered, “When we went over to Stiles place of residence all we found was a pile of what was once his house.”Pushing himself to stand, he began to walk around the table. “We dug in that pile and all we could find was one; Sheriff John Stilinski. A single gunshot.” He tapped his chest, “Right in the heart.” Stopping beside Scott, he bent down, one hand squeezing the back of Scotts chair, the other resting on the table top, caging the teen in. “We can’t find Stiles body. That only leads us to believe he is still out there and we need every little detail to track him down and all those responsible for this. Now Scott.” The office bent close, looking into the teens eyes, “Tell me what you know.”

Scott returned his glare, with pressed lips, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone, placing it down before them. “Like I said.” Scott stated through clenched teeth. Pushing the cell phone closer, he looked back towards the mirror, glaring at his own reflection.

“It was a stupid prank that went too far.”


	31. Chapter 30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The past four months were tough for Scott; trying to keep ahead of everyone in the case.
> 
> Scott had a lot on the line, he could go to jail but he knew what he had to do.
> 
> So he lied.
> 
> He lied a lot.

“Your hair is getting longer.”

Talia fussed lightly at his bedside. Her fingers brushed the black locks away from her sons forehead, not wanting them to touch the tubes connecting to his nose, letting out a puff of air every few seconds. Trailing down, she checked the bed sheets, making sure they were snug but not too much, she didn’t want him to feel constricted. Touching his limp hand, she gave his palm a squeeze, careful of the needle within his vein, making extra sure not to tangle the line.

The door to the room opened and she looked over her shoulder expecting a nurse but was greeted with two teens. Keeping hold of her sons hand, she sat up straighter with a frown. “Can I help you boys?”

Stepping forward, the first boy gave a small smile, tugging his backpack higher on his shoulder. “Hi Mrs. Hale.” He started, “I’m Scott…McCall, my um-my mom told me which room Derek was in.”

Talias eyes soften then, a soft chuckle leaving her lips before she questioned. “Melissa’s son?” Scott gave a nod before reaching behind him. He tugged his friend over, Talias narrowed her eyes at his appearance, his clothes seemed baggy and loose along his frame, giving him no defecation. The hood of his jacket was tugged over his head but what she noticed were the bandages that covered the teens face, it seemed only one of his eyes was visible. He ducked behind Scott a little that she couldn’t help but notice the boy had to be a good two or three inches taller than the other.

“This is Isaac.” Scott explained, “He um… He had a check-up today and we thought, if It’s okay with you, we could visit..”

“Oh of course.” She smiled, “I think Derek would like that.” Giving her son one more squeeze before releasing his hand, she stood up towards the boys, “Isaac, how are you doing?”

The shy boy lifted his gloved hands and pulled the hoodie down a little more over his face, his voice muffling pass the fabric. “Fine…” Talia just smile encouraging at him, it’s been four months since that awful night, the hand full of students who were able to make it out still suffered from the damage. Mentally and for Isaac and her son… physically.

“How is Derek?” Scott’s question made Talia look back. Derek lay on his bed, surrounded by equipment the hospital connected to show his process, to help him while he laid asleep to the world. For the first few weeks Talia hated the machines, they beeped and pumped around her, a few times there was a shrill of noises that resulted in her crying as nurses pushed her out of the room and into her husband’s arms. She hated to see them, to see her son so helpless, relying of these metal boxes and wires to keep him stable.

But after a while, Talia got use to it and every night, she listened to the heart monitor beep away next to her, giving her hope that her son was safe, he was okay.

“He’s doing better.” She explained, “There was a little scare that went down a few week ago, your mother was here a few minutes ago and said he was improving. We just need to wait..”

Scott pressed his lips, feeling fingers dig into the back of his shirt.

Derek was found outside the convention, across the road in a patch of grass sometime after the paramedics arrived. Around him the other surviving students were counted as well. He was rushed to the hospital where they found the only wound he suffered was a head injury. It seemed the bucket that poured the animal blood on him struck him at an angle with enough force that it cracked his skull but not break the skin. After a CT scan, they found his brain was swelling and because of the time of when item struck him to the time of them finding it and relieving the pressure, doctors told the Hale family dreading news.

The area in which Derek suffered the most damage was along the back of his skull, due to the swelling his cerebellum was placed under pressure, the cracks in his skull moved inward causing dents to his brain during the swelling. The Hale family was told that there was a 60% chance Derek had brain damage and because of the period of time he underwent without treatment. There was a high risk that if or when he woke up, he would have long term damage that could go from vision impaired, motor functions not cooperating and speech. They won’t know how bad or what was effected until Derek woke from his coma and they run their tests, until then they had to simply monitor him and keep his brain from swelling up again or checking to make sure none of his other organs begin to decline.

It’s been four months and there was no change to Dereks status.

“It’s good you both are here thou.” Talia voice snapped Scott out from his daze, “I’ve been meaning to step out and get something to eat from the cafeteria but I didn’t want to leave him alone. Cora was supposed to stop by but I think she’s running a bit late.” She glanced at them both and Scott finally took in her appearance, her black hair pulled up into a messy bun, her face tired and worn, her sweater wrinkled from her time sitting and leaning in her chair, she looked plain exhausted. “Perhaps you two can keep him company til I get back?”

“Yeah, we don’t mind.” Scott said happily. With a nod, she grabbed her purse, “I’ll be back in a few minutes.” With a wave of her hand, she gave her son another look over before walking out the room, leaving the two boys behind.

With the click of the door being shut, Scott turned back to Derek, watching the slow rise and fall of his chest. “We don’t have a lot of time.” He whispered and behind him, Isaac stepped out, trembling hands reaching up to his face, pushing the hood back, letting his blond hair spill out. Grabbing the bandages, he lowered them down to his neck, letting his brown eyes focus and revealing his face to the room.

Stiles took a breath.

Leaning against the wall, Scott watched Stiles approached the bed slowly, shaky hands squeezing the bandages. It was still strange to see Stiles with blond hair, his spikes growing out to curl a little at his forehead. It took some time but Scott was glad he was able to sneak Stiles in, let him get to see Derek one more time.

The past four months were tough for Scott; trying to keep ahead of everyone in the case.

Scott had a lot on the line, he could go to jail but he knew what he had to do.

So he lied.

He lied a lot.

He did see Stiles leave the convention center that night, Scott was the first on the scene, running towards the noise while everyone else ran away. He saw Stiles walk across the road, knocking park cars out of the way and above him, Scott saw classmates hovering. Scott couldn’t believe what he was seeing, one by one the students were be placed down in the grass, Ms.Morrell, Lydia, a blond girl with Boyd, a few others Scott didn’t get the chance to see but he saw a mess of blond curls and his stomach dropped. He raced towards Isaac, skinning his knees when he dropped down, grabbing his friends shoulders, tugging him to face each other. He yelled his name, staking his body but Isaac didn’t respond. Glancing up, Scott watched Stiles stand beside Dereks body, his eyes appeared black in the night, his empty gaze staring down at the senior. Scott called out his name but Stiles turned his back to him and walked off, leaving them all behind.

A broken sound made Scott snap out of his memories as Stiles hovered one of his hands, fingers trembling above Dereks head where the white bandages wrapped around, covering the resent surgery he was given. Removing the gloves quickly, Stiles brushed his fingers along the black bangs that grew out, tracing down gently to his cheeks. Stiles sniffled, trying to keep himself from sobbing out right at the sight, at the proof of what he had let happen.

“Why?” Stiles hiccupped.

Removing his touch, he looked up to the heart monitor, watching it dance with every beep it gave. “Why did you save me?” Closing his eyes, Stiles scrubbed his face to rid of his tears, “Why did Derek push me? Why didn’t I just stay home?” He hunched over then, resting his cheek lightly on Dereks stomach, gripping the sheets tightly.

“Why did you drag me out?”

Scott pressed his lips at the question, knowing it was aimed at him.

Scott ran after Stiles, once the police came onto the scene, the paramedics taking Isaac and the others, Scott just remembered the lost look on Stiles face and one thing lead to another and he chased the teen down. Scotts inhaler was empty by the time he made it to Stiles house. Just a few blocks back he saw Stiles walking along the side walk, he called out his name but his lungs were burning so his voice fell short. By the time he made it to the front door, he was panting, he reached to hit the doorbell but from inside a gunshot went off and Scott jumped back. He heard voices inside, a racket and Scott panicked. Racing away from the porch, he got into the back yard, another gunshot and Scott rushed towards the windows, peering in to see, to find out what was happening.

He found John standing in the kitchen with his gun, aiming in front of him, blood soaking his shirt. Scott watched the aftermath, watching Stiles crawl his way towards his father side. ‘Oh god’ Scott thought, John was trying to shot his own son.

Scott looked for the backdoor, reaching over to get inside.

That’s when the house started to shake.

It was a close call but he grabbed Stiles before the roof caved in, he was able to drag him away from his father’s side and get out, he was able to watch the house come down with Stiles sobbing at his side.

“Why couldn’t you leave me in there?” Stiles whispered, his shaking hands brushing at Dereks forearm, trying so hard not to knock the tubes. “This is my fault.”

“Not it’s not.” Scott finally spoke. “None of this was your fault Stiles.”

The teen just looked up at Scott in disbelief, eyes red with tears. “How can you say that?” Stiles frowned, “I-I burnt that place down, I-I killed all those people,” He dropped his gaze then, shoulder hunching up, “I killed Isaac.”

Scott took a deep breath at that statement, he felt the wave of sorrow rise, his eyes prickling with the need to shed a tear but he forced it down. Isaac would always be a sore subject to Scott now, a piece of information Scott would take to the grave and have to answer at the gates about. He felt his throat tighten in grief when he pictured the last time he saw his friend. Laying cold on the slab of the morgue, gray and lifeless under the white sheet. Scott made a choice that day, he would suffer the flames of hell for his decision when he took the edge of the table and pushed his friend into the incinerator. He would never let his mother know when she cried at the kitchen table in the early hours of the night, believe Isaac went missing, That he simply vanished or someone in Issac family came and took him away before Melissa got to the hopsital when the truth was Scott made him disappear.

Scott burned his friends body before the doctors could identify, before his mother could see, he burned his friend to ash so he could give Stiles his identity.  

“I pushed him into that building.” Scott answered, removing himself from the wall; he approached Stiles carefully, reaching out to lay a hand upon his shoulder. “This.. all this happened because of Jackson.” He gave Stiles a squeeze, “I’m going get them to understand that, you… you’re not to blame.”

“How can you believe that? I’m a monster”

Scott looked down at Dereks sleeping face, thinking carefully over his words. “You’re special...” He nodded his head towards the bed, “ I think Derek knew that too, I think once Derek wakes up, he would understand.”

“Oh god Derek..” Stiles whispered, “I wish I could fix this.” He confessed weakly, “I wish the bucket hit me instead, god what if he wakes up and he can’t talk? What if he forgets how to write and… God Scott, what if he can’t play the violin?” Stiles bowed his head sadly, tears dripping to the sheets, “He had just gotten back into music.. what if it was taken away?”

“Then he’ll relearn it all again.” Looking to the clock, Scott frowned. “We have to go.”

Stiles shook his head, muffling his sobs into the blanket. He didn’t want to leave, not yet. He wanted to look into Derek’s eyes one more time, he wanted to hear his voice say his name and let him apologize, he wanted Derek to understand, he wanted Derek to be okay.

Scott gripped his shoulders tightly, pulling Stiles away from the sheets. Stiles was about to snap when the door to the room swung open. Scott jumped infront of Stiles quickly while the teen grabbed his bandages, tugging them back up onto his face.

Cora stood in the door way with wide eyes, books gripped in her right arm. “What are you guys doing here?” She demanded, her eyes narrowing. “Where’s my mom?”

Scott glanced over his shoulder to see Stiles had replaced the hoodie back over his head, tucking his appearances away. “She went to the cafeteria.” Scott answered, “She said it was okay to visit Derek until she got back.”

Cora just pressed her lips at them, “I never seen you two before.” She stated, “I know all of Derek’s friends and I’ve never seen you two. Why are you here?” Scott bit his lower lip before reaching back, gripping Stiles sleeve. “We’re just leaving.” Stiles kept his eyes on Dereks face, taking in every detail he could while Scott dragged him out, pulling him threw the doorway. He would never see Derek again, not after this moment. It took weeks for Scott to agree to take him here.

Four months Stiles had staied hidden from the world, huddled in the darkness of Scott basement. For months Scott had treaded his wounds, stitched, cleaning, snatching medicine to break his fevers became too much. After the third month, Stiles was stable, regaining his energy when Scott dropped a shopping bag into his lap. Inside was a dye kit for his hair, a wallet, a blue folder and some money. Scott sat across from him and finally explained what was happening.

Everyone was looking for him.

Scott had snatched Isaac identity for him, when Stiles tried to push it away, the guilty of Scott friends death heavy on his heart, the teen only pushed it back, hard eyes demanding Stiles take them.

Scott was going to get him out of the town, sneak him away under the darkness of the night and let him run. _‘You can’t come back’_ Scott explained, _‘You can never come back.’_

His gaze dropped to Dereks youngest sister and he watched her glare at him, her face tight and uneasy. Cora was more protective of Derek, not easily sway to let people near him when it was her to turn to visit. She told her mother that someone was out to get Derek, this prank wasn’t just for ‘that stilinkski boy’ but for Derek as well and she wouldn’t let anyone try to get him until they found whoever dropped the bucket. Jackson could claim all he wanted that some lady named ‘Kate’ was the mastermind but until she was placed behind bars, Cora would not let anything happen to her older brother again.

Not on her watch.

Stopping beside Cora, Stiles returned her gaze. Scott whispered his false name, an urgency to keep moving but Stiles had to do this. Once he walked out of this building, he could never look back, he could never reach out, he could never say his name again. This was the only chance he got and he was going to take it. Even if it was to one person, Stiles could not live with saying nothing.

“I’m so sorry.”

Stiles took a shaky breath, wet eyes staring into Cora as the youngest sister stood unmoved. Quickly, Stiles reached into his coat pocket, removing an object carefully, a solid cloth in his palm. Reaching out, he took Coras free arm, she tried to snatch it away but Stiles just pressed the item into her grasp, curling her fingers gently over the fabric, letting her feel a object inside. “Tell him.. I’m sorry..”

Coras eyes began to widen and before she could utter a sound, Stiles turned and ran, Scott close to his heels. Cora watched them run, disappearing around the corner, leaving her shocked in the doorway. Glancing down at the object in her hand, she had the urge to throw it away, to toss it into the trash and be done with this nonsense and yet, curiosity got the best of her.

Stepping fully into the room, she set the books aside to approach her brothers bed, sitting herself down carefully beside his hip. She watched him breath, watched him lay sleeping before she took the item in her hand, unrolling the cloth to see what was inside.

Tumbling into her open palm, a dried up rose laid, petals brown and fragile. It was once a white rose, its green stems brittle under her touch. She touched it lightly, confused of why someone would give her a flower. She hissed, snatching her fingers back when something pricked her, something small was tucked inside the flower. It looked like a needle was sticking out of the dried up stem, this confused Cora even more. Turning the flower around, she found a small pearl sticking out at the base of the rose, with a gentle tug she removed it, watching the sliver needle slide out into the open.

A gasp ripped from Coras throat then, her eyes shoot wide. Her hands began to shake then, the rose trembling from her palm to fall onto Dereks chest, the impact causing a brown petal to fall off, to reveal the inner layers, stained black at the base. She knew this rose.

It was Dereks boutonniere, the one their mother pinned to his jacket.

**Author's Note:**

> This story is based of the horror Film 'Carriee' by Stephen King. I don't own Teen Wolf or the characters nor any references to Carrie. I HOPE YOU LIKE IT!!!


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